Fumbling Toward Who We Are
by JayRain
Summary: As the third son of the Trevelyan family, Theo was a mistake, destined for the Chantry with no say in it. The only child of a Tevinter Magister, Dorian relinquished a life of power and privilege to redeem his homeland. The Inquisition brings them together to save the world; but they're also fumbling toward something else, something neither thought to find in all the chaos.
1. Anywhere But Home

_Chapter 1: Anywhere But Home_

For the first time in his life, people actually listened to Theo when he spoke. It was at once gratifying and terrifying, because he was so unaccustomed to it. It was almost a relief when both the Chantry and the remaining Seekers not only refused to listen to him, but also all-out laughed in his face. It felt more like home, and he was easily the least dejected of anybody when they began the long trek back toward Ferelden.

"What are you smiling about?" Cassandra finally asked. The campfire accentuated the hard angles of her face, and the deep scar cut across her left cheek and jaw.

Theo poked the fire with a long stick and scooted back quickly when a log fell and sent up a shower of sparks. A few feet away Varric was chuckling. "It's ironic," Theo said. "I was expected to serve the Chantry, and now not even the Chantry wants anything to do with me."

"Or any of us," Varric pointed out. The dwarf took a swig from his flask. "Face it, no one expected an Inquisition out of all of this."

Cassandra stared into the fire. "No, least of all me. But I am a Seeker of _Truth_," she said. "That has to mean something. And if not to the rest of the order, then to _me_."

Sometimes Theo wasn't sure if she was talking to him or reassuring herself. Probably the latter, in this case. The Lord Seeker had sneered at Cassandra, had told her she had no right to call him by his title, and that the Inquisition was nothing short of heresy. Theo had half-expected her to agree, given the strength of her faith and conviction in her beliefs. But she'd clenched her jaw, jutted out her chin, and left Val Royeaux without a backward glance. Though she'd never declared herself the new Inquisition's leader, Theo, Varric, and Solas followed her out of the city as if she were.

But as soon as they were out of the city's gates Cassandra deferred back to Theo. "The Grand Enchanter said the rebel mages were meeting in Redcliffe," she said, staring at him from across the fire, again secure in her conviction.

"And the templars were in… Therinfal or someplace like that," Theo said. He rubbed his forehead. He'd spent his whole life sheltered in Ostwick; he'd never thought he'd go anywhere other than the nearest Chantry, and now he was trekking all over Thedas.

Varric handed over his flask. Theo accepted and took a swig. It burned going down, but it was welcome in the cold night air on the very edge of the Frostback Mountain pass. They'd hoped to cross the mountains before nightfall, but had stumbled upon a set of Fade Rifts. The fight left Theo exhausted, clutching his burning left hand to his chest and feeling dizzy. For their part Varric, Cassandra, and Solas, the elven mage, hadn't escaped unscathed either. Camping seemed like the better option.

"Therinfal Redoubt is east of Redcliffe," Cassandra said, reappearing and angling the unrolled map to see it better by the firelight.

"What would you do?" Theo asked her. In those first days she'd mistrusted him and watched him closely, as if expecting him to begin glowing green all over. Once Solas taught him the ability to close the Fade Rifts, she'd been better, and when he woke in Haven after sealing the biggest rift of them all, she'd completely trusted him. She was not a woman who trusted easily, and for that he respected and trusted her in return.

"This decision… it is not mine to make," she said in a halting voice. She rested a hand on her sword hilt. "You are the Herald of Andraste," she reminded him, as if he could forget with his hand glowing green and people demanding his attention every five minutes. "What choice you make, I will follow."

"She wants you to go to the templars," Varric muttered, watching her retreat to her tent.

Theo clenched his hand and shifted on the cold ground. "Of course she does. Where would you go?" he asked the dwarf.

"If I had a choice I'd go back to the Hanged Man in Kirkwall," Varric said with a grin.

"You do have a choice though," Theo said. _Unlike me._ His left palm seemed to pulse with vibrant light, though it didn't hurt the way it had when he'd first woken in chains in the Haven dungeons. Sealing off the large rift had helped that much, anyway. "But seriously, Varric. Where do I go? What if I make the wrong choice?"

Varric chuckled, but stared into the fire instead of at Theo. "There's a giant hole in the sky and it's raining demons. I think the wrong choice is still better than no choice." He looked around. "Have you seen Solas at all?"

"Given up calling him Baldy already?" Theo asked with a smile.

"I'll come up with something eventually. I always do," Varric said and took another swig. "Go rest. I'll take first watch," he offered. Theo tried to protest, remembering the vicious gash a demon had left on Varric's arm, but the dwarf waved his hand and shook his head. "You're the only one who can do that… thing that closes off the rifts," he said. "I think it's a better idea for you to be well-rested."

Theo sighed, though inwardly he was relieved. "Thank you, Varric," he said, and made for his tent.

He curled up in his bedroll and watched the firelight flicker on the wall of his tent. A stone dug into his back and he squirmed to get comfortable. He'd camped before, growing up in the forests outside of Ostwick when his uncles had taken him on hunting trips and he'd learned to shoot a bow. But it was always more comfortable than this.

But if he was still back in Ostwick, he'd probably have been shipped off to the Chantry by now. As the youngest son, when there was already an heir and a spare (as nobles in the Free Marches liked to joke), it was expected he and any sons after him would be given to the Chantry for religious service.

Whether he wanted it or not.

Theo had grown up without a voice, without a place, and without a future. Now, after one explosive moment, he had all three.

His father must be shitting himself.

He didn't know whether to head to Redcliffe and speak with the Grand Enchanter, or to keep going east to meet with the remaining templars. But the thought of his father soiling his breeches over Theo's sudden fame was enough to make him laugh softly and relax enough to get some rest.

He didn't decide where to go the next day, nor the next. He just kept moving east, over the Frostbacks and into Ferelden's Hinterlands until one night Cassandra could keep quiet no longer. "We must make a decision," she snapped, pacing angrily about. By "we", she clearly meant Theo, a fact that was not lost on him. "The countryside is tearing itself apart, between rogue templars and rebel apostates!"

Theo kicked at a clod of dirt. "I know. I was with you when we fought that last band, remember?" he said, a bit too acridly. Cassandra glared at him. "I'm trying to figure it out, Cassandra. Really," he said a bit more gently. "I'm sorry?" he ventured, but she just muttered something unintelligible and stormed off.

"She is getting accustomed to her new role as well." Theo looked up as Solas, the Elven apostate mage, glided up beside him. "The world as she knew it ended. She is trying to forge ahead, but it is a new world with new rules that she must learn." He turned his blue eyes on Theo. "And what of you and your place in this world?"

Theo shrugged. "I'm just sort of fumbling along and hoping I don't get myself or anyone else killed right now." He sat down on a log and the mage joined him. "I suppose we should just go to Redcliffe, but… it feels wrong going there just because it's the most convenient," he confessed.

Solas stared out into the gathering dusk. "Both templars and mages are able to help us," he said finally. "We need an immense concentration of magic to close the breach; either mages, with their magic, or templars, with their magical disruption training, can do it. I don't see that it's a problem choosing mages, simply because they are convenient."

"Are you saying that because you're biased?" Theo asked with a half-smile.

"I'm saying it because I'm practical," Solas said. "The breach grows daily. Time is not exactly on our side," he said, gazing up at the sky. The growing night was clear, though a pale green on the eastern horizon made them both uneasy. Theo stared at the mark on his hand, glowing the same shade of acidic green. "I support your choice, and I believe the Seeker will too. Her frustration stems from seeing no choice," he explained.

"That makes sense," Theo said. "I'm just not used to being asked what I think, let alone having to make a decision."

Solas nodded. "That is understandable. But do not fall into complacency and let that be an excuse for you to avoid the difficult decisions you will have to make." The elf stood and walked away, leaving Theo alone. Varric was off hunting; Maker only knew where Cassandra had disappeared to; and Solas had vanished as silently as he'd appeared. It gave Theo the time he needed to think over what the mage had told him.

Not for the first time did he feel a swell of resentment when he thought about how woefully underprepared he was to be making these sorts of decisions. Then he stopped. No, he wasn't prepared, but could anybody ever be truly prepared for the end of the world? Then he tried to picture Matthias, his oldest brother, in his shoes and stifled a giggle. Matt would go running to their father for answers, letting Lord Trevelyan rule through him. Even Gavriel, the second Trevelyan son, wouldn't truly be able to act without wondering what his father thought. Perhaps Theodane, the youngest, was best suited; he'd never had to worry about what his father thought. It had never mattered.

It never mattered that he'd taken to archery faster than anyone in his family, or that he made and fletched arrows that were of a better quality than those the fletcher in town sold. It didn't matter that he was a quick study, or that other families had made offers of their daughters. No, the third son went to the Chantry, and that was it.

With a sigh he picked up a pile of sticks and began stripping the bark with his pocket knife. It was mindless and soothing work that allowed him to focus. What Solas had said was true. All they needed was power to close the breach. It didn't matter where they got that power from. And time truly was not on their side. It was a miracle the world had not come crashing down upon them yet.

"Solas tells me you've made a decision?" Cassandra said. She stood at the edge of the ring of light cast by the camp fire. She didn't apologize, but she did sound gentler.

Theo set down his stick. He looked forward to returning to Haven to forge some proper arrowheads. He ran a hand over his dark hair. "Did he now," he said. Cassandra didn't say anything, but he could tell from the clench of her jaw that it was taking great effort for her to hold back. "I've decided we should listen to what the mages have to say," he said with a nod to punctuate his decision. The moment he said it his stomach flipped with nerves; now that he said it, it was true. If he went back and changed his mind he'd be seen as weak.

Cassandra bowed her head. "I will have word sent to Commander Cullen at once," she said. She turned to leave, but stopped. "Theodane, if I seem to question you often it is not because I disrespect you," she said.

"I know," he said. "I have a lot to learn."

She gave a smile. "As do I. I am accustomed to leading. Giving it up is not easy for me."

He laughed. "So you can lead," he said. "Please, by all means!"

She shook her head. "No. It is the same reason Cullen or Leliana cannot lead. We had roles before this. If we were to take on leadership, we look like opportunists for our cause. But you… you stepped out of the Fade, marked with magic though you are no mage. You are the Herald, chosen by Andraste herself."

There it was again: Herald of Andraste. "I keep trying to tell you that I'm just Theo," he insisted, but as always it was moot to argue. He sighed, but smiled at her. "I admire your faith, Cassandra," he said. "I just hope it's not misplaced."

"So do I," she said, but she was smiling.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," he called after her as she headed off to alert Cullen of Theo's choice.

* * *

><p>Theo rolled out of the way of a wispy green wraith as it lunged for him. "Little help here," he called.<p>

"Trying!" Varric fired his crossbow, Bianca, into an approaching demon. "Maybe you could try that fancy trick with your glowing hand?"

"I'd like to, but…" Theo grunted as another wraith knocked him down. Where had it come from? His keen hunter's senses were usually good at seeing things and reacting quickly. But it was as if this one had come from nowhere. No matter how quickly he moved it still felt like he was underwater, sluggish and slow, while the demons and wraiths moved abnormally fast.

Cassandra kicked the wraith off of Theo and hacked at it with her sword while he rolled out of her way, narrowly missing her blade. Solas had thrown up an ice wall that kept another trio of demons at bay while Varric fired at them. Theo held up his left hand to the wavering wall of green above his head and concentrated on the tingle of energy racing from shoulder to palm. A thin line of light connected his hand to the rift. The demons screamed around him and the rift glowed more brightly. Theo gritted his teeth as the energy made his arm start to tremble, but he held the connection. Just when he thought he wouldn't last any longer, light burst from his palm and twinkles of green rained down upon them.

"Maker's hairy balls, what was that?" Varric asked, reaching behind him to hook Bianca onto the special harness he wore. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. "It was… not what we've been fighting," he finished. He glanced at Solas. "You're our Fade expert," he said.

"So I am," Solas said. But he was not smiling, just gazing at the spot in midair where the Fade Rift had been. "It was as if time had been distorted," he said after a quiet moment while the others struggled to catch their breath. "Time has no bearing on the Fade itself. For it to affect denizens of the Fade so strongly…" He shook his head and began walking, headed toward the Redcliffe gate.

Theo recovered as many arrows as he could, and then jogged to catch up to Solas. The puzzle of this particular rift seemed to be occupying the elf's thoughts. He got this way sometimes, and Theo had learned in the last few weeks that it was best to just let the elf think. He identified with neither Dalish clan nor city alienage, and also seemed to think on a plane not of this world.

The village smelled faintly of fish, testimony to Redcliffe's recovered fishing and boating industry. It wasn't the same as the salt air of the Ostwick coast, but it gave Theo a strange homesick feeling that surprised him. He was supposed to be _glad_ to be anywhere but home. He led his small band into the village, glancing around nervously. He'd never been around mages before, and now he was on their territory.

"Excuse me," he finally said to a passing mage. "I'm looking for the Grand Enchanter." The mage looked nervous. "I'm Theodane Trevelyan, with the Inquisition; she met me in Val Royeaux and asked to speak with me." He tried to keep his voice steady and smile, trying to look at once relaxed but authoritative. It felt just like being at a party back home. Stand still, smile, look nice even though you don't count. But here, now, he _did_ count. He had to act like it.

It was harder than it sounded.

"The Grand Enchanter doesn't speak for the mages anymore," the mage finally said with a nervous glance between Theo and Cassandra. "Though the Magister isn't here, so I guess you could speak with Fiona…"

Theo ignored Cassandra's whispered curses. "I'll do that, thank you," he said with a smile he wasn't feeling. The only time he'd heard the world "Magister" had been in reference to Tevinter, the shadowy land to the north ruled by darkness and magic. Or so the Chantry taught. He followed the mage's directions to the Gull and Lantern, Redcliffe's tavern.

The interior was dim and dusky with pipe smoke and Theo coughed and waved away as much smoke as he could. The rumble of discussion died down as he stood in the open doorway with his companions fanning out on either side of him.

"See? It doesn't only happen in books," Varric muttered, nudging Cassandra, who just shook her head.

"I'm… looking for Grand Enchanter Fiona," Theo announced.

Silence.

The mages in the tavern all looked at one another uncomfortably. "You should not be here," one man said. He had wide eyes and a mark on his forehead. "The Magister does not approve of you or me, as we lack magic." He was reasonable, but his voice was oddly flat and he kept staring at Theo and the others with no expression on his face.

"One of the Tranquil," Cassandra whispered to Theo when he had no response but to stare back. "Pay him no mind."

"I am Fiona," called the Grand Enchanter, appearing around one of the wooden pillars. "Please, come in. But… who are you?" she asked, appearing puzzled. She was pleasant enough, but her brown eyes were narrowed.

"I'm Theodane Trevelyan, with Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, and the mage Solas," he said, returning her narrow-eyed look. "We met in Val Royeaux and you suggested we come discuss terms of an alliance."

Fiona blinked, confused. She beckoned them to follow her to a table in the corner, near the blazing fireplace. They all sat. "I apologize," she said, her voice low. "But unfortunately, I've never seen you before, let alone asked you to set up an alliance."

"That's funny, because it was definitely you we saw in Val Royeaux," Varric said, leaning back in his chair. He'd put on what Theo could only assume was his business manner. He was disheveled from the time on the road fighting and spent sleeping in camps, but he was completely in his element here.

"I've been here in Redcliffe; I haven't had the time to get to Val Royeaux," Fiona said, irritated. She sighed. "I apologize though. You've wasted your time coming here. I've… pledged our services to Magister Alexius of Tevinter," she confessed.

"Andraste's _ass_," Varric swore, the front legs of his chair thumping down again as he nearly lunged across the table. "I'm trying to think of a _worse_ thing you could have done, and I've got nothing!"

"We should have gone to the templars," Cassandra muttered.

"We are indentured to the Magister," Fiona said quietly. "I no longer have the authority to negotiate. You'll have to speak with him."

"You deserve better than slavery to Tevinter," Solas said quietly. He looked sadder than Theo had ever seen him, and his shoulders sagged.

"That was… fast," Theo said. Any one of his companions would have sworn on the Chant of Light, and by any number of the Maker's body parts, that they'd spoken with Fiona only a little over a week ago. How did a Magister come all the way from the Imperium and secure Fiona's promise in less time?

"We were desperate," Fiona said and it looked like tears were brimming in her dark eyes.

"I guess so," Theo said. He stood. "I'm going to rent us rooms," he announced. "I think we'll be in Redcliffe for some time, and I intend to be comfortable." He would be damned if he went into a negotiation with a Magister after sleeping on rocks and roots for one more night.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Here it is! The start of my new Inquisition story! Title comes from a discussion with the ever-awesome Karebear, where she said that sometimes as adults we're just fumbling toward who we are. Many thanks to the numerous people in the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers group who've encouraged me and given me such helpful feedback as I've prepared to write this, and to all who've read _The Magician_! I will be finishing up the final chapter of that one very soon-at least, before I post chapter 2 of this one! Thanks again!


	2. Before the Dawn

_Chapter 2: Before the Dawn_

"I can't believe you're here. You look…"

"Like complete shit, yes, I know," Dorian said, running a hand over his hair and brushing something—dirt? Pollen? He didn't know anymore—off his shoulder. "I'm still better looking than you," he said with a grin.

"Not fair. I'm almost dead." Felix's eyes were shadowed and his cheeks hollow. There had been a time when such a statement would have sobered them both, but Felix was smiling at his old friend.

"_Venhedis,_" Dorian said with a wave of his hand. "Since when was that any excuse, especially for one of our excellent breeding?"

Felix chuckled, but his brow wrinkled with pain as he did. He waved Dorian's hand away. "It's not an excuse. It's just fact. But in all honesty, I'm glad you're here."

Dorian leaned against the wall of the dockside warehouse and crossed his arms over his chest. "You knew I'd come here. You knew we'd meet."

Felix just shrugged one thin shoulder. "I had an idea. You were gone for two years; you didn't see things come together the way I did." Felix had a point. It was never easy for Dorian to admit that he didn't have all the information, but in this case he had to defer to Felix and just be grateful his oldest friend had shared what he knew. "How long have you been in Ferelden?"

"Not long. A fortnight, maybe a few days more. I was camping on the edge of the wilderness when the sky decided to rip itself open," Dorian said.

Felix snorted. "You? Camping?"

"You'd be quite surprised at the things I've learned to do," Dorian said with an offhand smile. He felt a bit sad, because there truly were things Felix did not know. He'd not seen the things Dorian had in his travels: the homeless of Kirkwall, the desperate apostates of the Hinterlands. They were things Dorian himself had never expected to see in his life, but now that he had, he couldn't ignore it.

Felix sat on a stack of weathered wooden crates, shoulders slumped and his eyes turned across the lake and up toward the faint green glow in the sky. "Were you here for that?" he asked. Dorian nodded. "What was it like?"

Dorian rubbed his temple. He'd had a slight headache since the Veil had torn. It had gotten a bit better in the last week or so, but there was still a throbbing in his mind. "It was… terrible," he said at last. But that didn't do it justice. It was worse than the one time he'd been severed from his ability to use his magic. "It was a bouquet of chaos and fear, with light overtones of anger and finishing notes of despair," he said.

"You talk too much," Felix said. "You always have."

"I like the sound of my voice. It's a lovely voice." Felix smiled, but he looked troubled. Dorian sighed. "Does your father know I'm here?"

"Not yet. Not ever, if you don't want him to know. I won't tell him," he said, gazing up at Dorian. It was an hour before dawn and still quite dark; Felix's face was shadowed and it was impossible for Dorian to tell what he was thinking. "How have you managed to blend in here?" Felix asked after a long silence broken only by the water lapping at the dock pilings. "Blending in isn't really you're style."

It was too true. Whether home in Tevinter, or in any of the various ports and cities he'd been to in the last couple of years, Dorian had never quite been able to help but stand out. "I blame the complete and utter chaos. It's been very helpful to my cause." He sat down on a crate next to Felix. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"To aid the rebel mages in _their_ cause?" Felix said, but Dorian kept staring at him. They'd been close as brothers when Dorian lived in Tevinter. Dorian still missed having someone so close to share with and confide in; it had been lonely growing up an only child in Tevinter's highest social class, though such a situation was all too common among the carefully bred Altus echelon. Felix, also an only child, sighed. "Father insists that's why we're here. He met with the Grand Enchanter a couple days ago, just before the Inquisition got here."

The Inquisition. The word had been thrown around Redcliffe and the Hinterlands over the last week and a half, and Dorian still had no idea what it meant. He assumed it was good, because refugees said the word with a smile, and camps with eager soldiers were beginning to spring up and take care of the bandits preying on the countryside. "You and your father made excellent timing from the Imperium," he said carefully.

"We did," Felix said, voice stiff even though he was smiling.

He didn't have to say anything else. Dorian had grown up amongst Tevinter's elite and could play the game better than any Orlesian with a full face mask on. Felix's reflexive defensiveness was enough to tell him what Dorian had suspected since he'd received word that Felix and his father were in Redcliffe. "Well," he said with affected cheeriness, "I'm glad we're reunited, for the moment anyway. But Maker's testicles. It's cold here. You should go back to the castle."

Felix shook his head. "I'd rather stay with you for a bit, if that's alright?" he asked. He rose. "Father… he means well, but he's not the man he was. I know he's just trying to hold onto me, but I need some space. From him, that is," he added quickly.

Dorian gripped his staff and began walking with Felix up toward the Chantry. He'd never been religious, but he knew that in the south the Chantry was supposed to be a refuge. They could both use that now, especially Felix, who was shivering. Dorian was chilled too; he was not accustomed to this southern weather, after spending all but the last few years of his life in Tevinter. But he wordlessly shed his own roughspun cloak and handed it to Felix. "Let's warm you up, shall we?" he asked with a smile, though inside he was truly worried.

Felix accepted the cloak without a word and draped it over his shoulders. He walked slowly up the hill toward the Chantry, pausing every few steps to get his breath. "It should be fun trying… to get back up… to the castle," he said with a grimace. "Why can't I just die already? This has been going on for years."

Dorian swallowed against the lump in his throat. He almost wished Felix _had_ died when he was gone; it would have made it easier on him. Now the world was teetering on the edge of a precipice and Felix was exhausted and weakened and still fighting on. He deserved rest. Dorian wordlessly rested a hand on Felix's shoulder, and then Felix was hugging him, his thin arms wrapped around Dorian. "I missed you," he said in a broken whisper. "Not a day went by that I didn't think of what you were going through."

"I'm glad we got to see each other once more," Felix said, voice muffled by Dorian's shoulder. He held the embrace a moment longer before pulling away, wiping his eyes. He managed a smile. "I should go back to the castle before Father realizes I'm gone. If he hasn't already, that is." He glanced at Dorian. "Do you still want to meet him?"

"Your father? I'd rather wait, given the circumstances of our parting," he said with his usual confidence, though the thought of facing his former mentor made him queasier than he'd ever admit. "But the man with the hand, yes; if you can get him away long enough. If all else fails, I'm fascinated by the concept of a soporati who can command the Fade like that."

Felix chuckled. "The world is going to shit and you're still the academic."

Dorian smiled. "Always." They'd reached the door of the Chantry. Dorian reached for the knob but stopped. Felix watched him curiously. "It's not right," he murmured. He held a hand against the door and reached out with tiny tendrils of mana before pulling back. "Have him meet me at the Chantry as soon as he can." Pale green light shone under the door, and the angry feelings of the Fade ripped open pulsed around them. "If nothing else, I have a feeling I will require his services."

Felix nodded and left, casting a backward glance at Dorian. Dorian smiled and waved him off, as one might a child. His brows knitted together with concern. It was bad enough to have to see Felix wasting away like this, clinging to life the way his skin clung to his bones. But even more concerning were these rips in the fabric of reality. It was as if someone had sliced through reality with a jagged knife and the Fade was bleeding through. He'd encountered one or two since the massive magical explosion; he was easily able to defeat the demons that poured out into the world, but none of his magical abilities had any effect on the rip itself. Trying just exhausted mana reserves he'd been steadily draining over the last couple weeks.

And now one had broken through in the Redcliffe Chantry. The irony made him smile.

For the time being, things were as safe as they could be with demons skulking about in a village full of desperate mages. Most of the mages were just glad to be behind city walls and under the watch of guards. Dorian sniffed and wrinkled his nose as if he'd smelled something foul (which wouldn't be out of the question in this fishing village). Southern mages were so used to being guarded that they couldn't handle life without it. They'd tried, and the world was falling apart.

The atmosphere in Redcliffe was subdued as the sun rose and morning got on. The arrival of an actual Tevinter Magister had the rebels looking about with furtive gazes and talking in hushed whispers.

Dorian had cast a barrier over the Chantry doors to contain the spirits and demons climbing through the rift in the Fade. But he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. He wasn't sure if his magic levels were draining, or if the tear in the Fade was getting stronger. He sighed. His spirit magic had never been particularly strong, and he was tired of standing around endlessly waiting for something to happen.

Any one of these mages would have thought him crazy, but Dorian had been taught in Tevinter and had no fear of his magic, or that of the other world. He dropped the barrier and pulled open the door. Green light filled the Chantry. He closed his eyes and smiled as the feeling of the Fade washed over him, filling him with energy he'd not had in a long time. He flexed his fingers around his staff. He lived for this.

A demon lunged at him and Dorian sidestepped gracefully and pointed his staff. A burst of lightning crackled into the demon. But Dorian was already onto the next foes, a pair of wraiths with long claws capable of doing deep spirit damage. He slammed the butt of his staff on the floor and sent a trail of scorching flame at them; still holding his staff, he spun about to see the demon coming back toward him and he hit it with a ball of electricity from his palm.

Fighting with magic felt like dancing. The Fade was the music, and Dorian knew all the steps. The demons shrieked and roared and magic sang through his body and his mind. He didn't even hear the door groan on its hinges, didn't realize he'd been joined until an arrow whistled past him, hitting the demon that was approaching behind him more quickly than he could react.

It was not the arrow that annoyed him; it was the demons moving faster than he was. He was tired, but that was just unacceptable. He cast a static cage on a band of wraiths and turned toward the archer. "Thanks for that," he said with a smile, breathing hard. Had he really been fighting so hard, so fast?

"Another one," said the bald elf next to the archer, and a fresh barrier went up that gave Dorian a reprieve. "It's the same time disturbance from the rift just outside of Redcliffe," he said.

Dorian glanced at the archer and saw his left hand, which glowed the same green as the light in the rift overhead, clenched around the grip of his bow. His eyes widened and he grinned. "I believe I know what's happened," he said, and was irritated he'd not thought about it before. "My fellow mage, would you assist me against these Fade denizens while the young man does something about this?" he asked politely, jutting his chin toward the rift.

The elf was more suspicious than Dorian thought was proper, given the circumstances. _Even with his life on the line he's suspicious of a Tevinter mage,_ he thought. He shouldn't have been surprised. He swung his staff out in a wide arc that made the mage and the man with the glowing hand jump back in fear. Glowing golden light formed a dome over them. The advancing demons did not slow down so much as they finally started to move at a normal, less frenzied rate.

"Solas, help keep them off of me," the archer said. "Please, just do it," he snapped when the elf was hesitant. He did not wait to see if his command would be followed; he raised his hand up and seemed to connect with the rift in the Fade.

The demons went wild, but Solas's barrier held and the ones that got around it were hit with a cone of cold that slowed them significantly. Dorian watched with fascination as the wavering sheet of green light twisted and writhed and suddenly exploded into nothing. The wraiths faded away and the demons sank into the floor with pitiful shrieks.

He'd never seen anything so magnificent.

"How does it work?" he asked, eyes wide. The archer stared at his palm. The glow had faded some. He kept taking a deep breath as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out. Dorian chuckled. "You don't even know, do you," he said. "You just wiggle your fingers and poof!"

"Who are you?" the young man asked, cocking his head to the side.

_Venhedis. Manners, Dorian,_ he thought. "Dorian of House Pavus of Tevinter," he said with a bow. The elf swore and said something about not needing another Magister. Dorian rolled his eyes. "I'll say this once. I'm a mage. I'm from Tevinter. But I do not, nor will I _ever_ serve in the Magisterium. I know you all think the terms are interchangeable, but they're not," he said, keeping his smile plastered on. It made him sound more pleasant than he was feeling. "And you must be the Herald of Blessed Andraste," he said.

The Herald also rolled his eyes and gave a slight smile. He kept flexing his left hand as if there was still lingering magic tickling his palm. "I'm Theo Trevelyan; people seem to think Andraste saved me. But… the terms aren't interchangeable," he said, meeting Dorian's gaze. He had pale skin with cheeks flushed from fighting; his chestnut hair fell into his light eyes and he had to impatiently push it away.

He didn't want to, but Dorian smiled. A real smile. And Theo smiled back.

"Dorian, are you… of course. You're fine." Felix stood in the doorway, shadowed in the bright daylight. "Lord Theodane. I trust you're well?"

Theodane? He smiled. "Yes, thank you Felix. I wondered when you'd arrive, but it seems we were able to contain this mess after all."

Felix was helped to a pew by a harsh-looking woman with short, black hair and a dwarf with a very interesting crossbow. "Looks like that illness card you said you played was more than just a card," the dwarf said, hand on Felix's shoulder. "Varric Tethras. Novelist and unofficial Inqusition storyteller," he said with a smile, shaking hands with Dorian. The woman hung back, her sharp features making her look cold and suspicious. Or perhaps she just was cold and suspicious. It would not surprise Dorian. "Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker," Varric said, when she did not offer introduction.

"Pentaghast," Dorian said, tapping his chin. "My mother had a friend named Pentaghast. Perhaps you know him?"

"We are a large clan," she said in a begrudging voice. "I cannot hope to know all of my relatives, nor would I care to."

"Well. So much for small talk then," he said with a shrug. He sat down next to Felix and the others pulled pews into a semicircle while Theo gathered his spent arrows. There was awkward silence and suddenly everyone was looking to him and Felix for answers. "Apparently there is a violent magic bent on unraveling the world as we know it," he began, leaning back. Maker, he was tired.

"That sounds like a blurb on the back of a novel," Varric said, sitting sideways on his pew and leaning back, crossbow in his lap.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose while Theo was trying to repress a grin. Dorian raised an eyebrow. "I'm reasonably certain Magister Alexius is only making it worse."

Felix surreptitiously rested his hand on the bench near Dorian's leg, just enough for him to feel his friend's touch. _It's okay,_ Felix seemed to say. _They need to know._ "What do you know about time travel?" he asked.

An hour later the Inquisition was on their way back to the Gull and Lantern with much to think about, leaving Felix and Dorian alone. "Are you alright with this?" Dorian asked Felix.

"My father's not the man he was. He changed after you left, Dor. The world's a wreck, and all he wants is to go back in time and change things, and he's using the Venatori to do it." He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I sat around for years and did nothing. No more."

Dorian nodded in understanding and got up. He paused at the door. "Take care of yourself, Felix. Try not to die," he said with a smile, though his chest was tight and his eyes burned.

"There are worse things than death, Dorian," Felix whispered as he watched him leave.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>So many thanks to all who read and reviewed the first chapter; thank you so much for giving Theo a chance and deciding to come along on his journey. Speaking of following, thanks so much to ALL the followers! You are awesome!


	3. A Strategy Against the Unknown

_Chapter 3: A Strategy Against the Unknown_

Theo had rented nearly the entire second floor of the Gull and Lantern. He could see Cassandra's eyes narrow when she saw the accommodations he'd acquired, but he also refused to leave the village and return to camp. "We need to be a presence here," he told her. "If we leave they can shut the village off to us and we'll never get back in. Did Scout Harding say how far out Cullen and Leliana were?" he asked.

"I assume they left Haven when I sent word that we'd chosen to go to Redcliffe," Cassandra said. "If that is the case they could be here as soon as tomorrow." Theo nodded. "Where is your new friend?" She tried to sound casual, but subtlety was not among Cassandra's gifts.

"Probably in his room. I'm not his nursemaid," Theo said just as casually, and braced himself for impact.

To her credit, Cassandra remained calm. "Do you think it wise trusting another Magister?" she asked.

"He says he's not a Magister," Theo said with a shrug. "Mage from Tevinter, yes, but not the same as a Magister. Besides, he held off that Fade rift for a long time before we arrived, _and_ he covered us while we finished it off."

"He knows Alexius. It could be a trap."

"Cassandra… everything's a trap," Theo said, rolling his eyes. "If we used the trap excuse every time we weren't sure of something, we probably wouldn't meet anyone or get anywhere. If you're worried I can ask him to leave," he said, though even as he did he was pretty sure he didn't mean it. There was something exciting about harboring not just a refugee mage—the countryside was swarming with those—but one from Tevinter.

Cassandra just shook her head. "The Maker can use anyone to do His work." They both silently added on, "even someone from Tevinter," which made Theo smirk. "I'll see to the security of the tavern," she said and took her leave. Theo understood that she always had the need to have something to do; she couldn't stay still for long.

Cassandra was gone; Varric was downstairs telling stories to whomever in the pub would listen (and probably gathering intelligence while he was at it); Solas had decided to go out into the village and talk to what mages he could. Theo supposed he was gathering intel in his own way as well, but that it was also academic interest that drove Solas on.

Theo was alone, and while he was a bit tired from the fight earlier, he was also interested. He'd never met a Tevinter before.

The hall was lit by dim and smoky lanterns. At Cassandra's urging they'd offered Dorian Pavus the room at the end, as far away from Theo's as possible in order to buy some time if the Tevinter decided to attack. Theo still had no idea how one person could be so suspicious; whenever he voiced that opinion though, Varric just shook his head. "If you knew half the shit she's seen, you'd be amazed she's not _more_ suspicious," the dwarf said.

Theo paused before the closed door, his hand poised over the door to rap on it, and he just stood there. What if he was bothering Dorian? What if he opened the door and saw blood magic at work? Would his credibility be completely destroyed? He sighed. So what if he saw any of those things? He didn't want to go through life questioning everyone and worrying over everything the way Cassandra did. He knocked.

It took a moment, but then he heard the sound of the door chain being undone and the door creaked open. Dorian stood in the doorway still fully dressed. His clothing was far more ornate and intricate than any other southern mage would wear, but also probably far more protective and effective. There were a lot of buckles and ties, and Theo absently wondered how long it took the mage to dress in the morning—assuming he ever undressed the night before.

He blushed without meaning to.

"Good evening," Dorian said with a smile. "I don't think I properly thanked you for offering your hospitality."

"It's the least I can do after the way you helped earlier," Theo said. He tried to will his blush away.

"And a little bribe to interest me in assisting you later on?" Dorian asked. But he was smiling, the expression quirking up one side of his curled mustache. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"Probably," Theo said. He felt like Dorian could see right through him if he lied. "Did I bother you?"

"Not at all. I was enjoying having a proper roof over my head for the first time in months," Dorian said. "I've been away from home for quite some time. It's nice to not feel the need to be on my guard while sleeping."

"So you're comfortable here, even though we're Inquisition and you're Tevinter," Theo said, cocking his head to the side as he looked at Dorian.

Dorian's smile spread. "I think you'll find, if you give it enough time, that I'm not your typical Tevinter. That would be Magister Alexius." He opened the door wider. "Care to visit for a bit? I'll even leave the door open so your chaperones need not worry," he added with a teasing grin.

Theo's ears burned. "I don't have chaperones," he said, and to prove that he was in control, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked around, but there was only one chair to sit in, and a narrow bed. He stood awkwardly, suddenly unsure of what to do. Dorian was still smiling, looking more amused than Theo liked. "Tell me about the Magister," he said.

Dorian sat on the bed. "You met him," he said. "Why don't you tell me your impressions. And then I'll tell you where you're wrong, and why you'll need to be far more careful than you realize."

Theo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He was aware of the warm tingle in his left hand and he stared at the green mark. "He wouldn't meet my eyes. He kept looking at my hand."

Dorian nodded knowingly. "Alexius was never good at hiding what he wanted," he said.

Theo sat down in the chair across from the mage. "How long have you known him?"

"A long time. He mentored me in Minrathous for many years. He had brilliant ideas for reform, and the capacity to take magical theory and make it reality." Dorian straightened up and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and began moving his hands in the air, as if weaving on an invisible loom.

Theo watched, mesmerized, as gossamer threads of magic seemed to spin out of the air between his fingers. He was too fascinated to be afraid. Dorian's lips were moving, though no sound came out. Suddenly he clapped his hands and flung his arms wide and the magic flew out of his grasp and all through the room. Theo jumped, nearly knocking over the chair while Dorian chuckled.

"Still afraid of the evil Tevinter mage, are we," he said, watching Theo with an intent gaze.

Theo righted himself in his chair and steadied his breathing. "No," he said. "I've never seen magic used like that before is all," he said, and it was true. In the few weeks since the Conclave explosion he'd seen the elemental spells and learned a bit about spirit magic from Solas, but little else.

"But you're not scared."

Theo made himself meet Dorian's steady gaze. He expected that his eyes would be dark; after all, he had wavy dark hair and warm, coppery toned skin. But his eyes were a light gray, framed by impossibly long lashes, and too difficult to read. "No," Theo said. What was one more challenge, after all? "And I don't think you're evil, either."

Dorian's mouth quirked in a grin and his mustache twitched. "Perhaps you should be afraid." He relaxed again. "I became a bit of a specialist in wards of privacy and silencing during my younger days. I've found they come in handy. The information I have for you cannot leave this tavern. Your advisors may need to know, but if it gets out into the village, forget the Inquisition. The world is done for."

He spoke of an impending apocalypse so casually that Theo wondered if he was joking. "What do you know?" he asked. His voice was low, nearly a whisper, even though Dorian had silenced the walls.

"I spoke of some of this in the Chantry, though not everything. Enough to convince your companions of the necessity of action." He fiddled with a buckle, which struck Theo as odd; Dorian did not seem like the type to fidget or fiddle. He was too self-assured. "Alexius and I were working on time magic when I was in Tevinter," Dorian continued. "The theory is complex; suffice to say, we were on the way. The spell I cast that put us on a level playing field with the demons is called Haste, and is part of the time manipulation Alexius taught me."

Theo blinked and shook his head. "People are afraid of magic as it is," he said. "Do you know what's going to happen if they realize mages can fuck with time? Like, for real, not just theoretically, like you were telling us earlier."

Dorian actually laughed. "You have quite a way with words. I hope you don't plan to go into politics or public speaking, Lord Trevelyan," Dorian teased.

Theo smiled and rubbed the back of his neck while his cheeks flushed crimson. "Just Theo, actually," he said, rolling his eyes. "Lord Trevelyan reminds me too much of my father. And I have a lot to learn. That's why I have Josephine, my diplomacy advisor, thankfully." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "But tell me more about the time travel," he said instead of belabor the point. "How does it work?"

Theo was determined to learn and remained seated, waiting expectantly until Dorian just shook his head with a chuckle and launched into a lesson that would have been dizzying even if Theo was a mage. He theorized that time was like fabric that could be folded to bring points together, or separated; his graceful hands demonstrated with the threadbare coverlet on the bed. His eyes shone when he spoke, and Theo realized he'd never heard someone so passionate about something before. Even his family in Ostwick wasn't nearly this passionate about their faith. It was just something they did, rather than an inborn part of them the way magic was so clearly part of Dorian. And he wasn't cowed or afraid of it, or what it made him, either; not the way Theo had seen in many mages since all of this began.

Theo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, which made Dorian wince. "I think I should go back to my room before Cassandra sends out a search team," he said. "She did that once before. Scared the deer I was hunting and we didn't eat very well that night," he added with a grin. "I'd rather that she not scare you away, too."

Dorian's right eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "I grew up in Tevinter, Theodane. I don't scare easily," he said. "And yes, that is a challenge." He rose and waved away the privacy spells so Theo could leave. "I bid you goodnight then. If possible, I'd like to be there when you speak with your spymaster and general. I don't trust you to get the explanations of the magic correct," he said, but he was grinning as he closed the door behind Theo.

Theo headed back to the room he was sharing with Varric. Varric was collapsed in the bed, fully clothed and snoring loudly, but he sat up quickly, a knife in his hand when the floor creaked under Theo's step. Theo held up his hands in peace, and the faint green glow cast eerie shadows in the room. "Just me," he said. _How long had he been gone?_ "Go back to sleep."

Varric rolled over. "Easier said than done knowing there's a crazy Magister in town who wants to kill us," he said. "But Harding stopped in and said Red and Curly would be here sometime tomorrow." He yawned. "Where were you, anyway? The Seeker was having a fit!"

Varric was as good at reading people as Leliana was, so there was no point trying. "I was talking with Dorian. The Tevinter mage. He let me in on a few things."

"Anything helpful?"

Theo shook his head. "A bit of insight into the Magister. He wants to talk to Leliana and Cullen with us." He stumbled about in the dark looking for his bedroll and trying to spread it out. He slipped off his shirt and balled it up into a makeshift pillow, then huddled into the camp blankets. "So yes, slightly helpful." Varric didn't reply, and soon Theo heard him snoring again. He sighed and tried to get comfortable on the hard floor. The only thing he regretted about spending so much time with Dorian was that Varric had returned before he did, and had claimed the bed.

* * *

><p>It was like being back at Haven, only instead of a war table they had a rickety writing desk, and they were crowded around a diagram of Redcliffe Castle. "The Magister outplayed us," Cullen said, shaking his head. He had dark circles under his eyes that he insisted, upon Cassandra's worried inquiry, were due to riding through the night to meet up with them. "No force ever took Ferelden without having taken Redcliffe first. There's no way we can lay siege, especially not with the levels of magic that can be turned against us."<p>

"And these are Venatori," Dorian said, entering the room. "They _will_ use blood magic and make sacrifices if they feel that it will accomplish their goals."

Within seconds Leliana had pinned Dorian to the wall and held a knife at his throat. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" she asked him in a low voice. The hand that held the knife was steady, but there was a dangerous gleam in her pale blue eyes.

Theo reached for her shoulder, but she suddenly had another knife in hand, pointed at him. "Leliana, this is Dorian Pavus. Yes, he's Tevinter, but he helped us close the rift in the Chantry yesterday, and gave me some insight into what we're really up against." She stared into Theo's eyes, weighing his words carefully before she sighed and sheathed her knives.

"It's been a long night for me as well. I apologize," she said to Dorian, who gave a cordial nod, but Theo noted the way he let his breath out and checked his throat for blood when the spymaster stepped away.

"Thank you for that introduction," Dorian said. "There are some things you should understand. Alexius is no mere Magister. He's Venatori, a Tevinter supremacy cult." The more he explained about the Venatori, the more of a chill crept up Theo's spine. He dropped his voice to briefly explain the time travel, certainly not in as much detail as he'd told Theo last night, but enough for Cassandra to swear and Cullen to dig the tip of his knife into the desk. Theo hoped the Inquisition had funds to replace it. At least Josephine wasn't here to make a big deal of it.

"A frontal assault will not work," Leliana said when Dorian had finished. "But if we send Theodane in—"

"Into an obvious trap?" Cassandra asked, eyes narrowed.

"If we send Theodane in," Leliana continued, "there is a secret passage from the old windmill that used to exist for the family. I remember using it during the Blight when Redcliffe was under attack," she explained. "We infiltrate the castle and take Alexius by surprise."

Cullen tapped his chin. "It could work," he said. "Though I'm hesitant to allow Theo to go in alone."

"I won't," Theo promised. "I'm taking Cassandra and Varric with me. If they'll consent, that is," he said quickly, but Varric nodded and Cassandra looked like she would have gone even if Theo hadn't volunteered her. She could be gruff and demanding; but she was loyal, and he was grateful. "I don't care what Alexius wants."

Dorian was watching him carefully, those gray eyes assessing him in a way that made him feel strangely pleased. "Lady Leliana, if you would consider," he began in that smooth and cultured voice that could probably sell oars to a Redcliffe boatman, "I studied with Alexius for many years. I know what he can do, and I've seen Venatori in action. Take me in with you, and let me assist."

Leliana nodded after a moment of thought. "I can't say I trust you entirely," she said, and Dorian shrugged like he was used to it. "But I admit you can give us an advantage, and that is what we need. Let's do it. Today."

Theo looked around the room. Leliana looked exhausted, but determined; Cullen the same. Cassandra was already strapping on her sword belt, and Varric was shrugging his thick leather coat on over his broad shoulders. The dwarf sauntered past them. "I hope you know what you're doing, Sparkler," he said, shaking his head.

"Sparkler?" Dorian asked Theo.

"He gives everyone nicknames," Theo said. Except him. Varric had tried anything from 'Trevvy' to 'Glowy', but nothing seemed to stick. They headed out into the hall. "Thank you for helping," he said after a moment.

Dorian kept walking, heading toward his room to collect his staff. "If we make it out, then you can thank me. And we'd better," he added with a little pout. He ran a hand through his wavy dark hair. "I _am_ too pretty to die, after all."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Once again, many thanks to everyone reading, following, reviewing... I love writing Dorian, and I'm so glad you enjoy him. My thanks and appreciation cannot be conveyed enough :)

1/11/15 update: mille grazie to mille libri for catching some glaring errors and gracioulsy pointing them out to me. I've since edited those points to improve the flow and polish the chapter.


	4. Out of Time

_Author's Note: _I've been reading Bathorybabe's _When the Fall Is All That's Left_, a fantastic story that explores what if Dorian failed to return them to their time. It's fantastic, and really made me feel all the more desperate for Theo and Dorian to succeed. Check it out at: s/10885327/1/When-the-Fall-is-All-That-s-Left. Thanks as always to all who've been reading and signing up for alerts! I appreciate it very much.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 4: Out of Time<em>

What _was_ the Ferelden obsession with canines? Nearly everywhere Dorian looked there were mosaics or frescoes featuring dogs; but those weren't nearly as bad as the carved dog and wolf statues all over the place. The gilded carvings seemed garish against the dank gray stone, and the heavy red velvet drapery just seemed tacky. But his observations went unvoiced as Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine, led him through the corridors of the castle.

As expected they met with Venatori resistance. Leliana was quick, but spells born of blood magic were quicker, and it was only by casting a nullification charm that Dorian was able to neutralize some of the threat to where she could take them out with her shining daggers. "How do you know so much about this cult?" Leliana asked him, wiping off her blades on a hanging drape. Well. At least it would blend in.

"You needn't sound so accusatory," Dorian said, searching one of the bodies for anything useful. He found a vial of lyrium and pocketed it just in case. He'd trained his magic his whole life and had a firm grasp on his limits and how to use his spells so as not to drain himself needlessly, but there were always times when lyrium might come in useful. "Alexius mentored me. His Venatori friends often stopped by for dinner and sacrifices." He was amazed at how light his tone could sound. "It was… horrifying, truly."

"I.. I'm sorry," Leliana said. She sighed and adjusted her hood. "These are suspicious times. I've seen the world come to the brink of destruction once before, so having it happen again on my watch is most trying."

"I hadn't stopped to consider that," Dorian said, keeping his voice low as they continued on, up stairwells and through hallways. It got warmer and less musty, but it also meant more Venatori guards.

Haste would have been an excellent asset to their rather unfairly outnumbered fight, but Dorian did not dare use the time manipulation spell so near to Alexius; not when he was already manipulating temporal fields, and when he was in such proximity to them. Dorian cast a wall of flame that held most of the guards back; he picked off others with a mix of lightning and arcane bolts while Leliana fired arrows through the flame wall and took down others. She shot with certainty and finesse and Dorian caught himself wondering what Theo was like when he shot; after all, Dorian had been rather distracted during the battle in the Chantry.

"Why are the Venatori here?" Leliana asked, searching one body and recovering an arrow, which she wiped clean on the dead man's robes. "Why come to Ferelden?"

"When your Circles fell the mages were without a leader," Dorian said. "This created a vacuum of power. Tevinter culture is all about power: acquiring, utilizing, and the like. With enough mages at their disposal the Venatori can… do whatever Venatori do," he said. It sounded lame even to him. "To be honest I've never quite been certain what the endgame of the Venatori is. Apparently they wish to become gods on earth."

Leliana shook her head in disgust, but said nothing else as she led the way toward the great hall. She knelt to pick the lock on the antechamber door and slid through into the throne room, moving like liquid shadow. Dorian held his breath for a moment then followed her.

From his vantage point behind a pillar he could barely see Felix, pale and swaying but supporting himself with a hand on the throne. Dorian couldn't see Alexius, but he heard that voice, smooth and cold as ice. "Your little Inquisition needs mages," the Magister said. Dorian imagined his face had that look he got when he thought he was about to win a chess match. "What do you have to offer? Nothing?"

Dorian shuffled to the side to be able to get a better view. Theodane Trevelyan stood with Varric and Cassandra just slightly behind him. He had excellent posture, Dorian noticed; probably from his practice of archery. His back was straight, his shoulders back, and he looked relaxed—but at the same time ready to draw his bow. His cheeks were flushed and his chestnut hair flopped into his face, but he was giving Alexius a defiant stare. He clearly had no idea what to say, because Alexius's assessment was correct.

Dorian cleared his throat and emerged from behind the pillar. His heart thudded; he had not seen his old mentor in years, not since he walked out in the middle of a Venatori ceremony. "Magister Alexius," he said with a cold smile. "How good to see you again."

Alexius stared for a moment as if seeing a ghost. Then he looked at Felix, and back to Dorian. "Ah, my old student," he said at last in a smooth voice, but Dorian knew he'd shaken him. "What brings you to our little gathering? Do you wish to bargain as well?"

"I met with him, Father," Felix said quietly. He was clutching the back of the throne, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself up. "I've also met with the Inquisition. They know all about the Venatori."

Alexius paled. Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian noticed a Venatori guard crumple to the ground, then another, as Leliana worked with deadly speed and accuracy. Alexius's nostrils flared and he scooted to the edge of the throne, tense as a bowstring. "Felix… what have you done?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Theo had one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. "Looks like your trap's been sprung already. I hope you don't mind?"

Well. He was a risk taker, Dorian would give him that much. Perhaps it helped that he did not know exactly what he was dealing with when it came to Alexius. "Felix only wants you to cease whatever you're pursuing," he said. "Go back to the Imperium," he urged. "There's nothing for you here, Alexius."

There had been a time when he admired Alexius and had been proud to be a guest in his home; and not just any guest, but treated like his own son. Alexius had aspirations of greatness, all of which had faded as Felix's illness progressed. Dorian beheld a hollow man, a shadow of his former mentor.

More Venatori guards started falling; the remaining ones drew swords. Ah, so soporati hoping to ingratiate themselves with their master then, Dorian realized. "Father, please, let's just go home," Felix said in a broken voice. He was barely holding himself together through the pain.

Alexius ignored Felix: a sure sign he was angry, or otherwise not in his right mind. He stood up and took a step toward Theo, who stood his ground. So he was a stupid risk taker then. Cassandra and Varric had drawn their weapons as Leliana stepped from the shadows, bearing two bloody daggers. "You," he snarled at Theo. "You come here possessing a gift you do not even understand, asking for power you cannot comprehend, and that you do not deserve! You think you are in control, but you're not. You're nothing but a mistake!"

Theo did not flinch. He stared at Alexius with a cold glint in his light eyes. "Funny. You sounded an awful lot like my father right then," he said. He held up his left hand and flashed his green glowing palm at Alexius. "One thing he didn't realize is that sometimes mistakes can serve a purpose."

"The Elder One has the power to raise the Imperium from its own ashes," Alexius said, his shoulders heaving with his excited breaths. "And the Venatori will be his servants. Gods on earth."

Felix rested a thin hand on his father's shoulder. "Father, please. Give up. Let Fiona and her people go."

Alexius spun around and grabbed Felix by the shoulders. "No. I'm doing all this for you, my son," he said. "I set out to save you. I _will_ save you." He reached under his robes and pulled out an amulet that pulsed with power at his touch. His lips moved with a strange language. Felix was begging him to stop, but he was too weak to physically stop his father.

Dorian felt as if the room was moving around him, warping and shifting and moving like a ship on the water, and he tried to keep from getting violently ill. Vibrant aquamarine light shone from the amulet. He felt a strange sensation as of being pulled backward by the neck of his robes. Theo was staring at him, his green eyes wide with fear and his palm glowing and crackling with Fade energy. Dorian didn't think; he launched himself forward, grabbing a handful of Theo's sleeve. He slammed his staff into the ground, channeling all his mana into disrupting Alexius's spell.

_What have I done?_

* * *

><p>His head was still spinning and he reached out for anything to hold onto, but there was nothing. Dorian fell to his knees in a pool of chill water and heaved until his stomach was empty and brain decided to obey. It was another moment before he could open his eyes again, and when he did, he wished he hadn't.<p>

Everything was glowing a violent red. The air was heavy and it almost hurt to breathe. The floor was covered in water. Theo stirred next to him, shaking his head to clear it. "What… what just happened?" he asked. He gazed around, brow deeply furrowed with worry. "Where are we?" He struggled to get to his feet, holding his head with one hand and wincing.

Dorian looked around. Aside from the water and the massive spikes of red crystals penetrating the walls and floors, he recognized this as part of the Redcliffe dungeon that he'd traversed only hours before. But then it had only been merely dank and stereotypically dungeonish. "This is… not quite what I'd expected," he said, clearing his throat and making a face at the taste in his mouth. He looked around and reached out what mana he had left; it wasn't much after what he'd expended. He felt the Fade, or what he assumed was the Fade; it felt like raw open magical wounds, or badly frayed fabric. "I'm not exactly sure 'where' is the right question," he said at last. The possibility that Alexius had successfully replicated the magic was exciting, but fucking terrifying now that he saw the result. "I think we should ask ourselves _when_ are we."

Theo's eyes widened. "You mean we traveled through time?" Dorian nodded. "We have to go back," he said. His voice was shaky. "What happens if we can't go back?" He had been so confident last night… or how many nights ago? when they'd spoken in Dorian's room. And just a moment… moments? ago when confronting Alexius. Now, in the violent red glow he looked young and terrified.

Dorian nodded once and steeled himself. "Simple. We find a way. And if not… we get comfortable in our new present." It was not an idea he relished one bit. Dorian remembered some of the paths through the dungeon from when he'd come this way with Leliana, but they looked so different now. The red crystals seemed to hum a high, clear song that buzzed in his head and tried to warp his mana. It was all he could do to keep control of himself, and soon Theo was leading the way. He looked back every few paces to be certain Dorian was still there, and offered a sickly half-smile each time, as if glad to see that he wasn't alone.

The dungeons were quiet but for their footfalls and the constant drip of water from the ceiling. Dorian wondered if Theo could hear the ringing in his head, or if as a mage he was just more susceptible to it. Theo stopped suddenly and drew his bow and an arrow from his quiver in one smooth motion. He stood so still Dorian thought he might be petrified.

Theo headed forward, but didn't look back this time. Dorian found himself slightly fascinated by how easily Theo shifted into hunter mode. He moved as if stalking prey, hardly making a sound as he stepped, holding his bow with a nocked arrow, ready to draw if need be. He held up his hand and Dorian stopped, barely breathing. _I'm following an archer through a crystallized dungeon and doing everything he tells me, while barely knowing the man_, he thought, and in spite of the terrible situation, he smiled.

They came to another block of cells and heard a chanted prayer. Theo ran forward in a sudden departure from his earlier caution. "Cassandra!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing off the dank stone. "What… happened?"

The Seeker gazed up at them. There was a red sheen to her skin and a redness glowing deep within her eyes. "But… how did you survive?" she asked rather than answer. She shook her head. "No. You are sent to torment me. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow," she prayed, rocking back and forth.

Theo knelt down on the cold stone and reached through the bars to touch Cassandra's shoulder with his marked hand. "Cassandra," he said more gently. "I'm real. I'm from the past. We're going to go back and make things right," he said and squeezed her arm.

Cassandra grabbed his wrist, moving more quickly than her state suggested she could. Dorian instinctively pointed his staff at her, moving into casting position, but she just croaked out a guttural noise that was supposed to pass as a laugh. "You," she snapped, still holding Theo's wrist. "Are you proud of yourself?"

"What for?" Dorian asked. "My stunning looks or my charm? My innate talent? There are a number of things for which I might be proud," he said in a stiff voice. Theo glanced up at him and subtly shook his head before looking back to Cassandra, who was now examining the mark on his hand. "I'm not proud of my former mentor sending us… when exactly are we?" he asked, and Cassandra gave him a strange look. He sighed and ran an impatient hand through his hair. "What's the year?"

"9:42 Dragon," she said.

Theo gave a nod of finality and picked Cassandra's lock. "Right. We're going back to 9:41 so we can try to make a better 9:42," he said, helping her to her feet. She was weak and slumped into him, but he held her up until she got her footing. After a few paces she pushed away from Theo and held her own, and mentioned that Varric was in another cell nearby.

The dwarf was miserable, leaning against the wall of his cell and trying to braid pieces of moldy straw. He also glowed a strange red, and his expression of hope and sadness when he saw Theo and Cassandra was heartbreaking. "Seeker! And you brought Fletch and Sparkler."

"Fletch?" Theo asked with a grin as he set to work on the lock. "When did you give me a nickname?"

"When I thought it was too late," Varric said. "You vanished. I wound up down here thinking about all the things I'd never do, and tell you I'd thought of a nickname was one of them. It's a silly thing, but still pretty fucking depressing." He struggled to his feet, pushing away Theo's offer of help. "They got Red, too," he said.

"Speaking of red…" Theo began.

Varric laughed. It had a chilling ring to it as it echoed off the walls. "And I thought it wouldn't show. Silly me. Not my best look by a long shot," he said. "It's red lyrium. Once the Elder One took over the stuff started to spread. It gets inside of you and then… all you hear is singing. Now I know how Bartrand felt when he had the idol," he mused.

"Then the next thing we need to do is find Leliana," Theo announced after a moment of silence. He had no idea where he was going, but everyone followed anyway, Dorian included. Varric and Cassandra followed, listless but constant, like red ghosts.

They found Leliana in the upper cells. She was chained by the wrists, hanging from the ceiling. Her head slumped down on her chest and a Venatori paced around her. He held a curved knife that he pressed to her throat. "You _will_ break," he snarled in her face. When Dorian had first seen her he'd most admired her flawless, porcelain skin. Now her cheeks and eyes were hollow and sunken; bruises marred her features and her soft red hair was tangled and brittle.

She looked up and saw Theo at the same time as her tormentor, and before the man could move she'd locked her legs around his neck. He writhed and gasped for air as she strangled him, dangling in her chains. "You're alive," she breathed, even as the man choked and slumped over, dead beneath her. There was a slight glint of hope in her glassy eyes as Theo released her. He held her for a moment, but she quickly pushed away and searched the body for a weapon.

"You're tough," Theo remarked.

She turned to face him. "Anger is stronger than pain," she said in a flat voice, sheathing two daggers and then looking around for a weapons rack and selecting a bow. "What is your brilliant plan now?" she snapped, staring at Dorian. He'd seen that look before, in headstrong slaves in the process of being broken: wounded, hungry, desperate.

"This, all this," he said, gesturing around at the ruin, "is never supposed to happen."

She stared at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I don't know what you mean. Once Celene was assassinated, Orlais fell from within and opened the way for the Elder One to overrun Thedas," she said.

"_Fasta vass,_" he swore. "This isn't real," he said, just as desperate. Tevinter could not sink to _that._

She grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him down so they were nose to nose. Her skin was paper-thin and the bruises were in various states of healing. She was missing a couple of teeth. "This is all pretend to _you. I_ _suffered. _The whole world did. It _was_ real. And mages wonder why people fear them. No one should have this power." She spit at his feet. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn't in his face.

"Red. Let him go," Varric said gently, tugging at her arm. "He thinks he can get us out of this. Make the future all a not-so-happy memory I'll be glad to forget."

Leliana fixed Dorian with one last baleful glare before releasing his robes and turning to follow Cassandra and Varric. Theo hung behind. "I'm sorry," he said. He looked tired and sad and scared. All the things Dorian felt but would not show. He was used to this, he told himself, though the accusations still stung. Alexius had done this, not him. The fact that they were both Tevinter was an unfortunate coincidence. "I trust you," Theo added.

"I suppose I should be grateful for small favors," Dorian said with a small grin.

The courtyard of the castle was ruined; walls were crumbling and demons sprouted from Fade rifts dotting the yard. The sky was a sullen, sick green: the color of the raw Fade and the color of Theo's mark. "The Breach got too big," Cassandra said, looking around. "It's all there is."

"It allowed the Elder One to walk into the Fade," Leliana said, taking out a demon with an arrow while Theo closed the nearby rift.

Dorian wracked his memories. He'd heard mention of the Elder One once before at a Venatori meeting, but had run before he discovered who or what it was. He'd never thought their Elder One would be able to conquer all of Thedas, but with enough blood magic anything was possible. Blood granted power.

"At least your hand is still useful. Whatever the Elder One did, he didn't undo that," Dorian said as Theo closed off another rift with a wave of his hand. "That's useful."

Theo's smile was ironic. "Useful? You heard the Magister. I'm a mistake. That's all I've ever been." He gazed up at the sickly sky and for one horrible moment Dorian was afraid Theo would start crying.

"Theodane…" Dorian started. Theo looked at him with a sorrow in his eyes so similar to Varric that it was disheartening. He took a deep breath. "Your mark brought us here, rather than back to a past where Alexius would have killed you. At least we're in a future where you are alive and able to do something. I'm here with you, for what it's worth." It was surprising to him to hear the earnestness in his own voice, and to know that he truly meant it. It wasn't just an issue of self-preservation, or a desire to return to the present; Dorian was nothing if not adaptable after his years of travel alone. Theo had come to speak with Dorian, even though it meant displeasing Cassandra; he'd stood up to a Magister; he was willing to do whatever was necessary to set things right with the world.

Also, Alexius did not deserve a future where the Venatori won.

Dorian tried asking about Felix, but Leliana silenced him with a glare and led on toward the throne room where Alexius kept himself barricaded. Theo cast a sorrowful glance his way and Dorian just shrugged it off. Did anyone think this was any easier for him? His homeland and his countrymen had ravaged southern Thedas by releasing the Elder One, and after dabbling with the very fabric of time itself. He hated it all, and there was nothing that would convince anyone otherwise.

Theo set to work once more picking the lock of the throne room. Dorian watched him work, and occasionally caught Varric watching _him_. He tried to smile, but Varric just shook his head. Leliana and Cassandra leaned against the wall, weary, but driven by anger to remain strong.

"Let me go first," Dorian said when Theo had sprung the lock at last. "This meeting is long overdue." No one protested, and he pushed through the heavy door to see Alexius, a mere shadow of himself, sitting on the throne. Next to him, on a smaller chair, sat someone he assumed was Felix, but he was little more than a skeleton with skin draped over it. A lump welled in his throat and he swallowed. "Sorry we're late, Alexius," he said, striding in with his head held high.

Alexius glanced up and made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "Dorian. Trevelyan. I thought you'd come back sooner or later. Welcome to your lives. All you can do is wait for the end. Like I've been doing for months now."

Even after months of torture Leliana moved quickly. She grabbed Felix and hauled him to his feet with a knife to his throat and a savage gleam in her eyes.

"Felix!" Alexius shouted. Theo grabbed Dorian's arm to hold him back. "I'll give you anything!" It was agony as Alexius begged for his son's life.

Leliana stared at the Magister, oozing hatred the way Cassandra and Varric oozed red lyrium. She dragged the knife across Felix's throat. Blood gushed from his neck as he dropped to the floor, lifeless. "I want the world back," she snarled and launched at him with her knife. Alexius gave a token resistance, but he was weakened in body and will. Leliana kept stabbing long after he was dead, harsh sobs wracking her body.

It was Cassandra who stopped her. "Peace, Sister Leliana," the Seeker said kneeling down and placing a glowing hand on her arm. "He can hurt you no longer." Leliana dropped her knife and shuddered, even as a low rumble sounded throughout the castle. Cassandra looked up and toward the door, then over to Theo. "The Elder One knows you are here. He's coming."

Theo's hand still clutched Dorian's arm, but he released his hold quickly when he saw Dorian looking. His green eyes were wide. "Can you do anything?" he asked nervously.

Dorian stepped over Felix's body and kept his eyes averted, locked only on Alexius. His robes were soaked in blood that was still warm and sticky. Dorian gingerly pulled down the neck of his robe and fished about until he found the amulet that had sent them here. He'd been around blood before, and lots of it; but never so much, and he tried to ignore that all the blood on the floor was from two men whom he'd considered family once, long ago. "Can you give me an hour?" he asked.

Leliana stood. "An hour?" she asked, incredulous. "Impossible."

Dorian knew she spoke the truth, but he refused to believe that he couldn't at least _try_. "The only impossible thing here is us remaining in this future. I won't do it. I can reverse the spell," he said, weighing the amulet in his hand.

"I'm all but dead as it is," Varric said. "I'll hold the gate with the Seeker."

"Varric…" Theo began.

"Go. Do what you can," Leliana said. She glared back at Dorian. "You have as much time as I have arrows."

He glanced at the quiver on her back. She didn't have many arrows. But he was Dorian Pavus, and he had worked with worse odds than this. He got to work.


	5. The Calm Before

_Chapter 5: The Calm Before_

"We do not have sufficient influence to appeal to Tevinter, nor the full authority yet to judge Alexius for his crimes," Josephine said. Her voice was calm as always, but Theo could see the exasperation in her eyes.

"He wanted to enslave the mages. His actions would have allowed for the assassination of Empress Celene. He—"

"Would have destroyed the world as we know it," Josephine finished for him, having heard the argument already. "Theo, the best we can do is hold him prisoner for the time being and use what information we have to our advantage." Her lilting voice was firm.

Theo sighed and rested his head against the wall. They'd returned to Haven two days ago. He never thought he'd miss the rustic village, and returning made him nearly delirious with happiness. The way home had been quiet as Theo tried to process everything; Dorian had managed to reverse the spell, bringing them back to the present they knew. Cassandra, Leliana, and Varric hadn't spoken much, though sometimes Theo saw Varric checking himself for signs of red lyrium. Theo had a headache from remembering what he'd seen, but thinking that logically, none of it had happened, and he shouldn't remember something from the future that had not happened…

Cullen had imprisoned Alexius, whom he'd declared a prisoner of the Inquisition, in the Chantry dungeons. Fiona and the rebel mages had sworn allegiance to Theo. They'd set off north and west, heading toward Haven and the Breach. Theo had hoped that sealing the Breach would be the end of things. And then he could go back to…well, something. Ostwick and the Chantry? Maybe his father would be more willing to reconsider his third son's options after this. Maybe Gavriel would put in a word for his baby brother, or perhaps he could get an apprenticeship with a master bowman and live a quiet life here in Ferelden.

But Leliana had reminded Theo of Celene's assassination, which meant that there were more political factors to consider. Josephine wouldn't let him execute Alexius on the spot, and the templars who'd stayed with Cullen wouldn't fight beside the mages. There was too much to do, and he was just one person with a glowing hand and an inordinate amount of luck.

Theo took a deep breath to calm himself before facing Josephine again. She was always so collected and patient, always doing the best she could with him. "I'd like to call in Cullen and Leliana and discuss the next course of action about the Breach," he said.

"You should sleep, Theo," she said.

He shook his head. "How about I sleep after I close the Breach. Is that a deal?" he asked with a smile. Josephine couldn't resist the word 'deal', and though she narrowed her golden brown eyes suspiciously, she finally nodded and had a page run for Leliana and Cullen. "Oh, before we hold our council," she said, "you should know there's a delegate here to meet with you."

"Isn't that what you're paid for?" Theo asked, but he was grinning.

"I told him that, but he insisted he speak to you upon your return." She handed him a piece of parchment. "Cremisius Aclassi, lieutenant of the Bull's Chargers. An Orlesian mercenary company that wishes to offer services to the Inquisition."

"That could be useful," Theo said. "I'll meet with him."

He'd hoped the council would be over quickly, but he was learning to abandon that hope. After hearing of what had happened inside Redcliffe Castle, Cullen was not pleased that Theo had still chosen to ally with the mages. He'd grumbled about it the whole trip back and still couldn't let it go. "They were willing to sell out to a _Tevinter Magister_," he said, glaring at Theo. "Do you know what Tevinters do?"

"I'll remind you that a Tevinter mage is the one that saved us, and stopped that future from happening. Or at least stalled it, if we can get along long enough to figure out how to proceed next," Theo said, resting his hands on the war table. "Said Tevinter has also offered his knowledge of the Venatori, and any service he may provide to the Inquisition, and I've accepted that offer." He sighed. "You weren't there to see what we did, Cullen," he said. "If we can have someone on our side who knows the enemy?"

"It is a worthwhile risk," Leliana said. Her hood shadowed her face; sometimes in the right (or wrong) light Theo thought she looked like the tortured wraith she'd become in the future and shuddered. "Dorian is a skilled mage who has practiced his whole life without the stigmas attached to magic here in the south."

Cullen sighed. "I don't like it, but if this is the course of action you choose then I support it. What about this mercenary company Josephine told us about?"

Theo knew Cullen had once been a templar and had seen the fall of two Circles before coming to the Inquisition. He was wary of unchecked magic, and Theo did not blame him. "I plan to meet with their envoy after this," he said. "I could go now, if there's nothing else?" he asked, hopefully looking toward Josephine.

"King Alistair sends his thanks for bringing the mages to Haven," she said. "Apparently Arl Teagan was not happy about being driven out by Magister Alexius and is grateful he can return. As thanks, we have the support of the Fereldan crown backing us now." Her eyes glinted and she was smiling at the victory. "But other than that, you may take your leave," she told him, and Theo was practically out the door before she'd finished saying it.

Once outside the Chantry he paused and took a deep breath of crisp mountain air. Overhead, the Breach roiled angrily. He stared at his marked hand for a moment. This mark, this power, was all a mistake. What had Alexius meant by that? If this was a mistake, what was the original intended goal?

"Scuse me. Lord Trevelyan?" Theo turned. "Saw your glowing hand, and figured it must be you." The young man smiled. "Cremisius Aclassi, but everyone calls me Krem. It's faster to say, you know? I'm second in command of Bull's Chargers."

"The mercenary company," Theo remembered, and Krem nodded. "My advisor didn't say much, but I only returned to Haven a couple days ago and they've kept me busy." They started walking through the village, which was bustling with activity. News of the victory over the Venatori had spread and motivated everyone. "Tell me about your company. We can use all the help we can get," he added.

"The Bull thinks you're doing good work," Krem said with a shrug, steering Theo toward the gate. "News traveled fast. We'd been fighting 'Vints on the Storm Coast and were heading toward Redcliffe, then he decided to skip it altogether and head up to your home base."

Theo chuckled. "Is that what Haven is, now?" He'd never thought of it as a base. Haven was just where they'd all ended up after being unceremoniously thrown together. He looked around at the soldiers practicing drills, at the blacksmith at work, at the quartermaster filing requisition orders.

"We set up camp just outside; didn't want to just make ourselves welcome," Krem said as the gates were opened to let them out onto the mountainside. Other than the Breach above, it was a calm and clear day. "Boss! The man with the hand is here!" Krem shouted, striding into the camp they'd set up. Theo glanced around at a motley group of people, all of whom smiled in greeting, except one. "That's Grim," Krem explained. "Don't take it personally."

Theo looked around, wondering which one was the Bull, but stopped when he saw the biggest man he had ever seen, and probably ever would see in his life, and it was immediately clear why he was called the Bull.

"A Qunari?" he murmured to Krem.

The Bull stood easily eight feet tall. His gray skin was covered in scars and stretched tight over solid muscles, and the span of his horns had to be the same as Theo's arm span. Easily. A patch covered where his left eye would have been. Theo was no warrior; he was not bulky, but his training had made him lithe and agile, and he was not a short man by any means. And still the Bull was able to glower _down_ at him, staring deeply into him with his one eye. Theo tried to meet the gaze, but it was hard; it was the most intense stare he'd ever been fixed with. Besides, his eyes kept drifting to the eye patch. Then the Qunari smiled.

"I'm The Iron Bull," he said at last. "You've met Krem, and those are the rest of the Chargers. We're expensive, but we're the best you'll get." He crossed his arms over his massive chest. He wore only a huge pauldron; no shirt; and the cold did not seem to bother him one bit. He surveyed his team with his single eye. "We were working in Orlais when we heard about doings in Ferelden. Wound up on the Storm Coast fighting off Vints."

"Vints?" It was the second time Theo had heard the term in less than five minutes.

"Yeah, Tevinters," The Iron Bull said. He ground his teeth together. "Crazy assholes summoning demons and running around screaming about being gods on earth…" When he chuckled it was like a thunderstorm in his chest. "Funny, they still bled like humans when my boys gutted them."

Theo struggled to keep up, but unlike Josephine or Cassandra, who tended to show their annoyance when Theo needed a moment to think, The Iron Bull just waited patiently, watching Theo with his one eye. It was disconcerting, to be sure, but there was no condescension or amusement, and after a moment Theo said the only thing he could think of. "You're a Qunari. I haven't ever seen one before."

The Bull shrugged. "And I've never seen a flying nug."

Krem snorted. "I can fix that, boss."

Bull shook his head, his huge horns cutting the air. "I'm Ben-Hassrath. Sort of like a spy, but… more," he said with a noncommittal shrug. "You hire me? I kick as much ass as you want, and probably more. I share what I learn with the Ben-Hassrath, they share their stuff with me. We get along, we save the day."

Theo wondered how many ways he was going to be eviscerated by Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, or Cassandra. He'd already taken on the services of a Tevinter mage; what was one more strike against him? The Inquisition needed not just numbers, but talent and skills. "You're hired," he said, staring up and meeting the one eye, and holding out his hand. When the Bull shook it, he thought his arm would rip out of the socket. "Come on in and set up inside the village. Welcome to the Inqusition."

* * *

><p>Dorian's hand glowed with a soft blue-white light as he made his way down into the dungeons below the Chantry. At least in Tevinter the Chantry was more of a figurehead, while the Magisterium held the real power; here in the south it seemed that everything about their religion intended to imprison. Why would a place of worship need dungeons anyway?<p>

He'd spent a couple of days mulling over this decision, and a couple of nights staring at the ceiling for hours wondering what it could accomplish. But in the end curiosity and regret for old loyalties had decided him. He stopped by the cell at the end of the hallway. "Dorian. Come to gawk at my failure?" Alexius asked without looking up. "Come to remind me again how my student exceeded his master?"

Dorian shook his head. "No. I came because of Felix. If not for him, I'd have nothing to say to you."

Alexius glanced up at Dorian. "Is he here?" Then he sighed. "Why ask? Even if he was he would not want to see or speak with me."

"He returned to Tevinter on behalf of the Inquisition. He will use information against you."

"If I could feel a sense of betrayal this may be easier to bear," Alexius said at last. He shifted to see Dorian better and gripped the bars of his cell to support himself. His wrists were held in faintly glowing shackles that Dorian recognized as lyrium chains, meant to prevent a mage from accessing mana. "But I believe the truth is that I betrayed him a long time ago. I only wanted…" He looked away and sighed.

"What any Tevinter father would want," Dorian said. "Everyone dies, Alexius. Fathers. Sons. Siblings. Friends. He still loves you; you're his father. But he couldn't stay after what happened. Frankly I'm surprised I'm still here."

Alexius 'humphed'. "I'm not. You never did anything anyone expected of you, Dorian." He stared at his student for a long moment and Dorian met his gaze evenly. "Just think what your father will do when he realizes you've joined the enemy."

Luckily Dorian had trained his magic from a young age, so he was able to quell the desire to let out a surge of mana in a fireball or lightning storm. Even his magelight didn't falter once. "Yes, imagine. However, if I gave a fuck what he thought, I'd still be in Tevinter." He turned and left to seek out more pleasant company.

* * *

><p>The Iron Bull and the Chargers added a whole new life to the camp. Theo discovered that the Qunari could outdrink even the best of Cullen's men, and Krem played a mean game of Wicked Grace, much to Varric's delight. It was almost a relief to have the raucous atmosphere after the weeks of tension. It was reassuring to see everyone really start to come together, and as much as Varric insisted it was because of Theo, he still had his doubts.<p>

He bumped into Dorian coming out of the Chantry. "I'm glad you've decided to stay on," he offered after a moment's hesitation.

"For a little while," Dorian said. There was an edge of caution to his voice. "Until the mages help you seal the Breach at the _very_ least. After that, I'd not had any plans."

Theo nodded and tried to ignore the surprising sense of disappointment that lodged in his stomach. "Well, that's good. I mean, you're very talented. What you did in Redcliffe…"

Dorian smiled and waved the compliment away. "I'm thankful it worked; I'd rather not try to imagine what the world would be like had we failed." He started walking, and Theo walked alongside him. "I see you took on a Qunari?" Theo nodded. "You realize that the Tevinter Imperium and the Qunari have been at war for centuries?"

Theo shook his head and his cheeks flushed. "If I had known, I…"

Dorian laughed. "You'd have put my comforts ahead of the Inquisition's needs? I'm quite flattered," he said, gray eyes sparkling.

"There's a lot I don't really know yet," Theo said, completely flustered by Dorian's smile and the way that glint in his eyes made his stomach twist.

Dorian paused and surveyed him a moment. "Do you play chess at all?" he finally asked.

Theo was taken aback, but didn't wish to show it-not to the graceful mage who never seemed out of sorts about anything. "Not well."

"I haven't played in ages. It's hard to settle down and play a casual game when you're constantly on the run. And now that I have leisure time, no one wants to play with me," he said and Theo swore he was almost pouting. "Care to join the evil Tevinter Magister, who is not really a Magister at all?"

Theo laughed and glanced around the camp. Everyone was engaged in practice or leisure and for once no one was chasing him down. He nodded and followed Dorian to the small cabin he'd been given for lodging, across the way from Solas. "Is this the mages' corner?" Theo asked with a smile. His heart fluttered as Dorian waved a hand across the door and opened it.

"It may as well be," Dorian said, inviting him in. The cabin was quite small, but clean, and Dorian's few belongings were stored neatly. He took a seat at the small table and gestured for Theo to join him while he went about setting up the pieces on the chess grid burned into the table top. "I must say, I was surprised that the Inquisition would support free mages. What's next, elves running Halamshiral?"

"You disapprove?" Theo asked cautiously. The pieces were set, but he had a feeling the game had begun long ago.

Dorian's long fingers hovered over a piece. "On the contrary, I'm rather impressed. You've given Fiona and her people a chance at autonomy; a sense of authority, to be more like… well, mages back home."

"I don't think the rest of the Inquisition really approves," Theo said, staring at the board rather than at Dorian. "But… one of my sisters is a mage. She never complained, but I also never got to know her because of it."

"You have a sister?"

Theo counted on his fingers. "Two older brothers and three older sisters. I'm the baby."

"The mistake?" Dorian asked quietly and Theo jerked his head up and glared at him. "My apologies, but I heard what you'd told Alexius. And you said it again in the future. Clearly it's something that galls you."

Theo sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear that, and it's not important." He stared down at his left hand. The green glow was soft, and the tingle so constant that he didn't really feel it anymore unless he thought about it. "I can do something to stop all this shit. That's what's important."

Dorian had not yet made his move. "Do you feel unimportant because you are the youngest?" he asked, head cocked to the side. He half smiled. "Forgive me if I'm too forward. As an only child, such matters are alien to me."

Theo wasn't quite sure where to begin. "It's not that I'm the youngest. It's that I'm the youngest _son_. Where I come from in the Free Marches, it's customary that any son after the second is dedicated to a life of Chantry service either as a brother or as a templar. It looks good to the Chantry, but really it's to keep peace in issues of succession."

Dorian absently smoothed his mustache that somehow kept perfectly curled regardless of climate. Theo found it interesting to see him sitting here in a small wooden cabin, like a peacock among a flock of pigeons. "You seem of an age where you'd have gone to the Chantry already," Dorian said, calm as he watched Theo watching him, so confident in his looks and elegant grace that he was able to meet Theo's eyes. "Or is there a Lady Trevelyan waiting?" he asked with a smirk.

Theo blushed. Gavriel had taken him to a brothel once, just after he'd turned sixteen. The woman was lovely, with long golden hair and smooth, pale skin and round blue eyes; she'd had lovely breasts that she'd placed his hands upon, and he'd stood there, not sure what to do as she whispered naughty things to him and pressed her breasts against his hands. Gavriel had said he'd feel stirring in his breeches, but that only happened when a lithe and handsome male elf had accidentally walked in. Theo's eyes had drifted to the elf, with his red-gold hair and delicate ears, his willowy body and warm brown eyes, and _then_ he'd stirred. The whore had glanced back, shrugged, and allowed the elf to stay in Theo's line of vision while she performed her task. She'd left shortly after, and Theo tried to dress, but ended up with his mouth all over the elf.

"I'm not very good with women," he told Dorian without looking at him.

"Neither am I," Dorian said, twirling a pawn between his fingers.

Theo looked up and raised an eyebrow. "You? Please. They must have fought one another to the death to bed you in Tevinter."

Dorian looked like he was holding back laughter. "Oh, they did. But if you're no good with women, as you claim, and you were meant to go to the Chantry… why are you not there?"

Why did so much of Theo's bitterness in life revolve around Gavriel? It wasn't that he disliked his brother, and that's what made it even harder. "Gavriel, my middle brother, is six years older than me. He's always felt bad for me; he said Matthias was the heir, he was the spare, and I was the 'don't care'. It sounds bad, but we just had to laugh about it." He smiled. He didn't miss Ostwick, but he did sometimes think about Gave. "A few years back when it was about time to send me off Gave got sick. They brought a healer in from the Circle, they tried enchantments, potions, prayers… he eventually got better, but he was never the same. And then a year later he got worse again… it was just this cycle. So they kept me around in case Gave died and they needed a _spare_ spare," Theo said. His throat felt raw and he thought he might snap from the built up tension. He took a deep breath that he had to swallow around the blockage in his throat. "I'm sorry, Dorian. I shouldn't have burdened you with that."

Dorian's brow furrowed slightly. "Why ever are you sorry?" he asked. "Firstly, I asked. Second, I've always enjoyed a good bit of family drama. We thrive on it in Tevinter," he said and grinned. "The stories I could tell you about the great Altus families and their doings would make your family look like the most loving individuals in the world."

"Even your family?" Theo asked, trying to smile.

Dorian's grin faltered just slightly. "Especially my family," he said.

There was a knock at the door. Dorian waved his hand and the door creaked open to allow Solas to poke his bald head through. "The mages are wanted… Oh, Theo. I'm sorry, I wasn't aware Dorian was entertaining company," Solas said.

Theo stood just a bit too quickly and nearly knocked over the chair. "We were just… talking," he finished lamely. "You said the mages are needed?"

Solas gave him a long, appraising look. "Yes, and you as well. We are going to head up to close the Breach."

It was only as he followed Solas out that he realized that, aside from Dorian fidgeting with a pawn, they had not played any chess.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> So many thanks to all who have put this story on alert! And many thanks, squee's of appreciation, and virtual cookies to those of you who have taken the time to review. I sincerely appreciate the feedback. A couple of special shout-outs: Bathorybabe, for hashing out some ideas with me that I'm looking forward to implementing; and Cateia, whose "Black Sheep, White Armor: Book One" (which may be the best Sebastian fic out there) became my head-canon for Free Marches politics and family practices.


	6. The Long Night

_Chapter 6: The Long Night_

This trek up the mountain pass was far better than the last time, and it was mostly because the Breach had stopped slowly killing Theo with each expansion. He'd closed the largest of the Fade rifts nearly a month ago, stopping the spread of the Breach and saving his life in the process.

Flurries of snow fell as he led his team up the mountainside, drawing ever nearer the Breach. His heart pounded with excitement and the tingle in his hand grew to a slow burn as he approached. The mages followed, led by Solas; Dorian had blended into their ranks, just another mage helping Theo.

Cassandra stopped before they approached the rubble of the temple. She stood before Theo. "You look excited," she observed.

"The Iron Bull promised a Qunari drinking contest if we win," Theo said with a grin. "You'd be excited too, if you were into that sort of thing."

Cassandra tried not to, but she ended up smiling anyway, even in spite of the sickly Fade-green light rippling around them. "I will enjoy watching you make more of ass out of yourself than usual," she said, unable to keep her face straight. Theo would have thought that her experiences in the future would have made her even more serious; but her gratitude at being back in her own time, and what they were about to do, had given her hope.

"I like these terms," Theo said. "You and Bull have my back?"

She nodded. "Yes. And Varric will cover you with the mages." She glanced back over her shoulder to a ledge and waved; Varric waved back, hefting Bianca in one hand. "You've come a long way in a short time," she said. "May the Maker bless you."

"You too, Cassandra," Theo said, and then he clasped her hand for a moment.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, emptying himself of his fear, his excitement, and his emotions. He couldn't care what his father would think, or about the red lyrium future he had to look forward to if he failed. No, he would not see a broken Leliana or a listless Varric.

Theo strode toward the Breach. It was angry and raw and open. There was wailing, but it came from inside of him. His hand sparked and throbbed. It hurt nearly as bad as when he'd realized he had the mark, only now he knew what it did and why he had it.

"I am not a mistake," he whispered. No one else would hear him over the howling winds of the maelstrom. "I have a purpose. I'm not an accident."

He stopped and squinted up into the Breach. Lightning crackled and sometimes he thought he saw demons flit through the cyclone of magic. "I am not a mistake," Theo repeated. He threw his hand up at the wound in the sky.

At first the surge of power from the connection nearly knocked him off his feet. He dug his heels in and braced himself against the hard ground and held his left wrist with his right hand to keep himself steady. The force of the magic was almost too much. Then he felt the tension relax as the mages hit the Breach with the force of their combined power. When he opened his eyes he saw everything as if through a thin film. He dared not break his focus, but he was sure Solas had cast a shield on him. Standing was certainly much easier with the shield.

Theo lifted his head. Sweat dripped down his forehead and ran into his eyes but he could not move his hands, not now, not so close. His eyes stung and he gritted his teeth. He was doing something. He was fulfilling a purpose for which he had been made. He was not a mistake.

The roar in his ears grew. His chest constricted. The magic pressed in on him from all sides, crushing him. His arms were burning with the muscle strain and the magic of his mark. His knees buckled, but through sheer force of will Theo kept his connection to the Breach. He swallowed; his throat was raw. Had he been screaming?

There was an explosion of blinding white light and the line between Theo and the Breach was severed. He pitched forward, slamming his face into the rocky ground. His arms were limp, as if his bones were made of water. The air smelled of sweet cold. Stars collided behind his eyelids. People were cheering. Theo rolled over on his back.

The sky was clear, the sun was setting and the first pale stars were coming out. A puckered scar ran across the sky where the Breach had been, but it was over. Theo tasted blood from a gash in his lip, but he was laughing, long and loud. He'd stopped the nightmare future from ever coming to pass, which felt even better than having physically closed the Breach.

The Iron Bull stood over him, blocking out the sky; Cassandra and Solas knelt down. "I fail to see what is so funny," she said peevishly.

Theo tried to catch his breath. "Solas. The Breach. Can you tell…?"

Solas stared up at the sky and his eyes glazed over as he reached for the Fade. "The Breach is closed, but the scar upon the heavens shall remain," he said, blinking to clear the visions. "I shall walk the Fade later this evening and survey the damage from that side." His hand hovered over Theo. "You have no lasting injury," he confirmed. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I've been dragged across the Frostbacks on my stomach, but I'll live," he said, prodding his lip with his tongue. It stung, but he'd had worse. Iron Bull helped him to his feet; or, more accurately, picked him up under his arms and set him on his feet, holding onto him until he got his balance.

"You did good, Boss," the Bull said, about to clap Theo on the shoulder, but Theo held up a hand to stop him; he didn't think he'd stay upright if Bull did that. The Qunari stared up at the scar. "Those were some powerful fireworks."

"I thought Qunari hated magic," Theo said, stretching his aching arms.

"We do. But sometimes it's a means to an end," the Iron Bull said. "In this case, using magic stopped the sky from raining demons. I'm far more comfortable under that scar in the sky than I was under the Breach."

"I can hardly imagine you being uncomfortable with anything," Theo said, turning to follow Cassandra and Solas back down the mountain.

Bull gave him a long look. "Ben-Hassrath," he reminded Theo. "I'm good at hiding it."

* * *

><p>People were bumping elbows and jostling one another left and right to get Theo drinks. His older brothers would be so proud, he thought. But much as he'd talked up the Qunari drinking game with Cassandra, he found that he didn't want to drink himself into a stupor. He'd managed a major victory and wanted to savor it, and most of all, remember it. He'd been able to sneak off from the main fray and sat on a stone wall overlooking the fire-lit village. Gavriel would probably have told him to go enjoy himself, but Theo found contentment in just watching everyone else celebrate.<p>

"I hope you don't intend to be sober the entire evening," Dorian said, emerging from a darkened pathway and holding a bottle. "You do deserve some commendation after all."

"I want to enjoy this," Theo said. In these shadows it was easier for him to sneak longer looks at Dorian. Faint flickers of firelight caught the angles of his facial features and made his eyes seem unfathomable. "The victory," he said quickly, looking away, though he had been enjoying the opportunity to stare at Dorian. "What do you have there?" he asked.

Dorian sat next to him: close enough for him to feel a bit nervous with excitement, but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. "Tevinter red. My one bottle. I took it when I left home and I've been saving it, though I was never sure whatever for. I would say that closing off a massive tear in the Fade and saving the world would qualify."

Theo shook his head and leaned away from Dorian just a bit. "I couldn't do that; it's from your home."

Dorian shrugged. "It's also just wine. I suppose I could drink it all myself. I've been known to do that on occasion." He popped the stopper on the bottle and closed his eyes as he took a whiff of the wine. "It smells like home." He took a deep swig.

Theo's eyes traced the curve of Dorian's neck. Maker. Since that time in the brothel he'd worked hard to school his feelings. First he thought maybe if he showed interest in the noble ladies of Ostwick his father might reconsider a marriage arrangement. Sure, he'd be living a lie, but he'd be freer than in the Chantry. Then he'd been brought to the Conclave and was expected to be a good Chantry boy, not even looking at the women (which was easier for him than most). But then the Breach had happened… and now he was not-too-surreptitiously ogling not just a mage, but a Tevinter one at that. "Do you miss home?" Theo asked, looking away.

Dorian pressed the bottle into Theo's hand and urged him to drink. "Sometimes," he confessed. "I miss the warmth most of all. It's so bloody cold here. Luckily I'm a master of primal spells and can keep myself warm for the most part. Wine helps too."

Theo tilted back the bottle and sipped gingerly. It was a bolder flavor than the table wine he'd had at home, rich and full and fruity, but not sweet. It was smooth, as smooth as Dorian's voice and he felt pleasant and fuzzy after just a few sips. He handed the bottle back to Dorian before he drank too much, felt too fuzzy, and did something too stupid. Dorian's hand brushed his and he withdrew quickly.

Dorian smiled in the dim, flickering light. "I may be Tevinter, but I'm hardly a wild animal," he said.

Theo was glad he couldn't see him blush. It had far less to do with Dorian being Tevinter, and far more to do with him being attractive. "Now that the Breach is closed—"

"Theodane!" Cullen shouted, barreling up the path. His cheeks were flushed and his nostrils flared. "There's a force moving toward us. Huge."

Theo jumped up and ran after Cullen, but cast a quick glance back at Dorian. The mage nodded and saluted him with the wine bottle before putting it to his lips and drinking deeply. "Allies?" he asked Cullen, struggling to get his quiver on over his armor while holding his bow. Cullen shook his head as they ran to the gate. "Status?" Theo asked the men at the gate.

They'd been celebrating as well and their speech was already a bit slurred. But suddenly someone was pounding on the gate. "Let me in! I can't help if you won't let me in!" a young man shouted, fists pounding relentlessly.

The guards looked between each other and Cullen, and finally Theo just pushed past them and undid the bar. A young man stumbled in. He was hardly dressed for the harsh mountain weather; he was pale as a ghost and the oversized brim of his hat kept Theo from getting a good look at his face. "He sang a siren song, silver tongue making promises of purpose. He was too loud and they couldn't help but hear. They had to listen," he rambled, glancing between Theo and Cullen with panicked eyes.

Theo shook his head to clear it from the wine and the confusion of the sudden onslaught. "Who's coming? Who listened? And who are you?" he added, ducking his head to try and get a look at the boy's face.

"I'm Cole. The templars come to kill you."

Cullen swore. "Why would they do that? We had a common enemy!"

Cole stared at the ground. "The red song became their blood. It filled them and beat through them and they became the song."

Theo looked around at the camp, which had been alive with celebration just moments before. The fires now leapt higher, alarm bells were ringing, and soldiers were yanking on armor and scrambling for weapons. "Josephine!" he yelled when he caught sight of his advisor. "Get the villagers into the Chantry!" He looked back to Cullen. "Strategy?"

Cullen was a consummate soldier and excellent commander, and he easily set aside his uncertainty and anger to survey their surroundings. "We can use the environment to our advantage," he decided. "If we hit a mountainside with the trebuchet we should be able to trigger an avalanche that will take out some of the force."

Theo nodded. "Good. Let's set the archers up and let them pick them off."

"Mages? Scouts?"

Theo shook his head. "The mages are still fairly spent." _I am too,_ he thought. His lip still throbbed and he felt sore, but there was no time for that. "We should try to keep our people behind the gates rather than send them out." By then the Iron Bull, Krem, Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian had joined them. Three of these people hardly knew him, and yet here they stood, waiting for Theo to say more. His mouth went dry.

"Frightened, fearful, falling, you want to be enough—"

"Cole, please," Theo snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose and thinking.

"I'll take Cassandra and Varric to the south trebuchet," Cullen said. "Bull and the Chargers and Dorian can go with you to the north."

"Skinner, Rocky, Stitches, you're with me and the Boss," Bull said. "Krem, take Grim and Dalish and go with the Commander." Cullen opened his mouth to protest, but Bull shook his head. "You're in good hands with Krem de la Crème," he said with a grin. Krem rolled his eyes and landed a hard punch to Bull's abdomen.

"I told you I hate that fucking joke, you big _qalaba_," Krem said, but he was smiling.

"Hey, if I didn't like you I wouldn't talk to you at all," Bull said, clapping Krem on the shoulder. "Take care of the Commander, okay?" he said, attempting to wink at Cullen with his single eye.

Theo trudged up to the north catapult, and by then the red templars had begun to break through the gates. He dodged a massive sword coming at him and nocked an arrow as he moved, pausing only to turn and shoot into the fray that was coming through the gate. He moved without thinking; even though his arms were sore from earlier, years of training had build up muscle memory that took over through his exhaustion. The bow was an extension of his arm, and his arrows flew straight.

Bull swung a massive maul in an arc, taking down a row of templars; Dorian conjured a massive ball of lightning that bathed the battleground in an eerie violet glow. He casually flicked out his hand and the ball exploded into bolts that stabbed down into the group. Theo smelled burning even yards away. His stomach turned.

Dorian moved with the fluid ease of a man completely comfortable with his talent. He'd barely cast off one spell before he had another going, and he never stopped moving. Bull moved surprisingly well for a man of his size; Theo had expected a slow, hulking tank and clearly their opponents had been as well. He moved quickly, knocking down rows of templars with his maul, and the ones stupid enough to engage him at point blank range were gored by his horns.

Theo wheeled around to see a red templar barreling toward him. He tried to nock an arrow, but at that speed the man would…

…Not make it. Suddenly he dropped to his knees. Blood poured from his throat, staining the snow. Cole stood behind him, staring at the body and holding a pair of wicked daggers that dripped blood. "The tide sucks itself in, gathering as much of itself as it can…"

"Cole. Speak plainly," Theo said, unable to keep calm and try to discern the boy's strange ramblings.  
>Cole lifted his chin so Theo could see his ghostly pale eyes. "The Elder One comes here for you. He doesn't care about the village. They will die. All of them."<p>

Theo blinked. "Elder One?" He asked.

Dorian joined him. "Elder One?" He repeated. "I thought we avoided that course of action by sealing off the Breach."

"When they couldn't get what they wanted he called to them. The Elder One promised that if they destroyed you they'd get what they wanted."

Theo turned his shaking hand over and looked at his palm. Then he looked around at the men… at his men. They'd known him for only a very brief time, but they'd been loyal. With the Breach sealed he could ask no more of them. "Go to the Chantry," he said quietly, not looking anyone in the eye. "Get Cullen and go to the Chantry, all of you. I think someone once mentioned that there were basement passages that led into the mountains. You can all escape."

Silence, but for the cries of battle. "It's all sentimental and shit," Bull finally said. "But what about _your_ escape?" he asked pointedly.

Theo took a deep breath and clenched his marked hand to his side. "I'll figure something out. I always do," he said with a bright smile. He would _not_ meet anyone's eyes. He couldn't. For one brief, glorious month he'd led armies and done great deeds. He'd had soldiers; a Seeker; a Qunari mercenary; and a Tevinter mage loyal to him and his cause. It was more than he could have hoped for, and dying tonight wouldn't be a bad end after all he'd done just in the last month. Better than growing old and dying of boredom in the Ostwick Chantry.

He expected resistance, but the Iron Bull just dropped a huge hand on his shoulder. "We'll see you on the other side," he said, bowing his head before he gestured for his Chargers to follow.

"Cole, go to help the people," Theo said, starting for the trebuchet.

"I'm not saying goodbye, you know," Dorian called after him.

Theo turned about to see the mage standing in the snow, arms crossed over his chest. His hair was tousled and there were a few smudges of something, ash or blood, on his face. His lips were pressed in a thin line of irritation. "You don't have to," he said. "You do have to go to the Chantry with everyone else and let me handle this." Dorian tried to protest but Theo wouldn't hear it. "It's been an honor and all that stuff," Theo said gruffly, reaching out to shake Dorian's hand.

The mage surveyed Theo's extended hand and then shook his head and smiled slightly. "Like I said, I'm not saying goodbye. This means you need to return. Otherwise I'll feel terribly guilty for not saying farewell, and then I'll wallow away the rest of my days drowning my sorrows in a bottle of wine."

Theo couldn't help but laugh. "You know? I think you might actually _enjoy _that."

Dorian smiled slightly. "I may. But I'd actually rather not find out. So do try to remain alive?"

Theo shrugged. "I'll try. Go," he said, and after one moment Dorian left, but not before waving his staff and casting a shield over Theo. He watched the mage leave and wondered what good one magical shield was going to do against the great host marching toward him. He heard the sounds of battle drawing closer. He began to wind the trebuchet, his arms protesting, and sheer willpower forcing him on.

The dragon came from nowhere, swooping low and knocking Theo off the platform and into the snow. He floundered in the cold powder and searched the dark and smoky sky. The dragon's huge shape circled once and landed, shaking the ground. Theo did not have the time to stand before its rider dismounted and seemed to float over the snow toward him.

Theo struggled to get his feet beneath him, but the man… no. The monster grabbed him by his left arm and jerked him into the air. Theo grunted at the pain in his shoulder as the thing held him at eye level. He was huge; his face was scarred and distorted, with stone or metal shards seeming to grow out of-or into his skin. His eyes were dazed with madness and he smelled like the red lyrium future Theo had stopped from happening.

"Behold the will that is Corypheus," he said, staring into Theo's eyes with a burning hatred. He flung Theo aside. "You will kneel before me."

He lay in the snow in front of the dragon's maw. Theo's arm hung twisted and useless at his side and his breath had been knocked out of him, but he'd always been stubborn. He glared up at Corypheus and forced himself to his feet. "No," he said. "I won't yield."

Corypheus stared and smiled. "It matters not," he said. "You will kneel, and you will break."

The words to Leliana in future Redcliffe. Theo's blood boiled inside. "I'll die first," he snapped.

Corypheus laughed. "Probably." He reached into his tattered robes and produced a glowing orb. Theo felt the pull of magic in his hand and the fiery pain as his damaged arm reached for the orb not of his own volition. "You are an accident," he said. Theo thought his arm was going to rip off. "You interrupted something years in the making and stole power that you do not deserve. That which marks you? I crafted it to assault the very heavens!"

"Try harder next time," Theo said from between gritted teeth, and kicked the trebuchet release as hard as he could.

The line of magic faltered enough for Theo to pull back and turn away from the monster. It had been a long time since he'd prayed, but certain death would do that to anyone. _Let mine be the last sacrifice,_ he thought and ran blindly as the first rumbles of a massive avalanche began to shake Haven.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: "Qadaba"<em> is a Qunlat word for the unintelligent cattle that Qunari breed. Many thanks to Bathorybabe for the generous shout-out in the last chapter of her fic! And many thanks to everyone taking the time to read, review, and get alerts. I enjoy writing this story, and it is gratifying to know you are enjoying reading it 3


	7. Darkest Before

_Chapter 7: Darkest Before_

The sun was blinding on the snow and a biting mountain wind blew the drifts until Dorian could see no sign that the Inquisition had trudged through it on the way out of Haven. This was the second morning he'd backtracked to look into the endless white wastes and hadn't seen any hint of their passing. If he could not see it, and he knew they'd come through, would anyone else?

"Here," Cullen said, handing him a steaming mug. "You're going to freeze. What are you doing, anyway?"

Dorian took the mug from the Commander without question, though he did sniff it first. The last time he'd taken a drink from someone he didn't know well, he'd ended up in chains. At least this would keep his hands warm. "Thank you. I was hoping to see any signs of life from behind," he said, squinting out and tugging the fur cloak about him more tightly. The cold seeped through his boots and he could hardly feel his feet.

Cullen stood next to him. "He took down nearly an entire mountain. There's a chance that…"

"Thank you for the grim reality check, Commander," Dorian said without looking at him.

"I'm sure he would appreciate your concern," Cullen said, his breath steaming in the frigid air. He was dressed in his armor and had pulled a bear pelt around his neck and shoulders. Frost was forming on his breastplate and his cheeks were red and chapped.

Dorian was certain he didn't look much better. "My concern for him is borne out of self-preservation." Cullen glanced at him. "I'm here at the behest of Lord Trevelyan. I'm fully aware of how my Tevinter blood marks me, and am certain that if he does not return I'll find myself out on my frozen arse in the snow."

Cullen's mouth twitched in a slight smile. "Perhaps if you give us a chance, more will give you a chance."

Dorian sniffed. The cold cut his sinuses and his eyes watered. It felt like his eyeballs were freezing. "If I come through this with my pretty Tevinter head intact, then I will give people a chance," he said. Then he sighed. "Thank you though," he told Cullen. "I can see you're making an effort, and I suppose I should too. With you, at least. Thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome. Don't freeze," Cullen said.

Dorian nodded his thanks and shivered again. He reached inside and tugged at a thread of mana and felt warmer as the fire magic surged inside. He didn't fancy setting himself on fire, but this was better than freezing to death.

He turned at the sound of crunching footsteps and saw the Iron Bull and Krem, the only other Tevinter Dorian had seen in this whole odyssey that wasn't completely insane. Krem kept going, but the Bull paused. Dorian glared at him with the appropriate amount of Tevinter disdain. "We're heading out to see if we can find any sign of the Boss," Bull said at last. "Wanna come along?"

"You sure I won't end up with a knife in my back?" Dorian asked.

The Bull stared at him long with his one eye, but Dorian had been sized up by far worse. "You ever use your fancy magic to burn down a dormitory full of kids?" he finally asked.

Dorian blinked, taken aback. "Um… no, not today at least."

Bull grinned. "Great. Then we're good. Come on."

Dorian blamed the snow and the cold for dulling his better senses. He sighed and followed after the huge beast of a man… or was it the other way around? The Tevinter, Krem, just flashed a glance at him and shook his head at Dorian's misery. It was hard to keep up with the Bull's long strides, but Dorian somehow did. He didn't need one more reason for the Qunari to hate him.

They slogged through the snow, Krem matching the Bull's strides while Dorian started to lag behind more and more. At last the Bull slowed and let Krem take point. "You doing okay?"

Dorian rolled his eyes. Lovely. A Qunari was asking after his well-being; the world truly was ending. "Of course I am," he snapped. "Why did we even agree to leave him behind in the first place?" he asked. It was something that had bothered him for the last two days.

"It was an order," Bull said. Each step he took equaled two of Dorian's. "Boss said to pull back, so I pulled back."

"But he was outnumbered," Dorian argued.

Bull nodded. "I know." His voice was soft, and Dorian wondered if he was feeling regret. Were Qunari even capable of feeling regret? "But he ordered us to pull back and leave him. If I disobeyed his order it would have undermined him, and frankly, he didn't need any more of that."

"I didn't think of it that way," Dorian said. It made sense; Theo had been a stumbling leader since Dorian had known him. He meant well and tried hard, but looked for approval. He tried to pretend he didn't care, but Dorian could see the uncertainty in those green eyes. He pulled the cloak up to cover his neck. Ice crystals were forming in his mustache, which he figured was quite unattractive, but could not be helped. He rubbed his hands together and reached for the thin strand of fire magic. The cold and the march had made him tired and his mana was running low from the sheer effort of keeping warm. "Let's keep going," he said. "He was lucky once before. Perhaps he'll be lucky again."

Bull nodded, his horns bobbing. "Let's hope."

They kept going. Sometimes Dorian looked behind him only to see their trail covered by drifting snow and wondered how they'd ever find their way back, or if the huge Qunari was leading him to his death. All he'd have to say back at camp was the pampered, spoiled 'Vint had wandered off and frozen to death…

"Boss!" Krem shouted over the wind. "We got a trail here!"

Bull had been keeping pace with Dorian for a while now, but he took off, moving very fast for a man his size. Dorian followed, trying to move more quickly, but his limbs were stiff with the cold. _Venhedis_, he would _not_ be left behind to freeze to death! He tried to step in the Bull's tracks, which made moving easier.

Krem was crouched down in the snow, squinting to the south. "The drifts are filling them in, but these are definitely fresher than we'd have left," he told his commander. "Whoever made them headed from the direction of Haven, but looks like they veered off here."

"Probably during that last squall that went through," Bull said. "Nice work, Krem."

They followed the tracks and Dorian debated going back, since they seemed to have this under control, but the embarrassing truth was he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way back. Already their own tracks were obscured by windblown snow.

Krem and Bull moved faster as the new tracks got fresher. Dorian cursed himself for forgetting his staff as he stumbled along. The sun was bright and the cold made his eyes tear up; it was hard to see, which made him walk right into the Iron Bull's broad, muscled back. He swore and Bull wheeled around, eight feet of bulk ready to squash him like a bug. "Can you do anything?" Bull asked, which rather surprised Dorian. The big man dropped to his knees in the snow.

_Vishante kaffas_. Dorian looked over his shoulder and saw Theo. For one terrible moment Dorian thought that he was dead; he was still and an unhealthy shade of blue colored his skin and lips. Ice crystals had formed in his delicate eyelashes. He was breathing, but barely.

"You just going to stand there, or are you going to do something useful?" Krem asked, fixing Dorian with a dangerous glare.

"I'm not a healer," Dorian said quietly. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"If you can't do anything then get the fuck out of my way," Bull grunted, easily hefting Theo's frozen body into his massive arms. "Fuck, he's colder than an Orlesian's dick."

"Wait!" Dorian said. He approached Bull and his hands hovered over Theo. Theo's eyes were half-open and glazed over and his left arm hung at a strange angle. Dorian had never been much for healing magic, but he could command the elements. His hands trembled with his own chill, but he focused and drew upon the tendrils of mana deep within. The warmth trickled down his arms and into his hands and he breathed deep, despite the cutting cold in his nose. He did not conjure a full fire, but enough of a warming glow that the ice clinging to Theo began to melt. "It's something, though hardly enough," he said through gritted teeth. "He needs a true healer."

"You sure you're not going to set him on fire?" Krem asked suspiciously. Bull remained silent. There was obvious tension in his arm muscles that was not from holding Theo; the Qunari probably could have held him with one arm. "Boss…"

"I got this, Krem," Bull said through clenched teeth. He closed his one eye and Dorian feared he would snap.

At last Dorian had spent nearly everything he had and he pulled away. "That should help. Get him back to camp. Don't wait for me." _You've done it now, Dorian. He'll head back and leave you to die in the frozen wastes. What a noble ending._

Bull started to stride off, but turned his great horned head. "Krem. Wait for him."

* * *

><p>Voices. Maybe. It could still be the roaring howl of the wind and the snow. Feeling, possibly. It could just be the snow raking its icy claws across his exposed skin. Pain, definitely. A constant ache in his chest and ribs, sharp stabbing pain in his arm. He couldn't move and he didn't want to. Everything was so fuzzy and muted.<p>

Another wave of clarity washed over him and the pain intensified, but so did his other senses. Definitely voices, definitely feeling. And now he was moving, trembling and shuddering all over as he realized just _how fucking cold_ he was. So cold it hurt to breathe—that was the constriction in his chest. The cold came from the inside, so no matter how many heated rocks or blankets they piled on, Theo could not stop feeling it.

There were hands on either side of his head and he felt calmer immediately. His chest still hurt but breathing was easier. "Dorian, warm him," Solas said.

Theo managed to open his eyes a little bit. Solas was a pale blur hunched over him, hands passing healing magic into him. Dorian shot down a vial of lyrium and shuddered once before reaching beneath the mountain of blankets and furs. His handsome face was drawn and pale, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he concentrated. His hands were on him, and Theo felt warmth begin to spread into his chest and torso. It became easier to breathe. The pain began to subside into a dull ache and the light faded into darkness again. Only this time there was no howl, no biting cold, only pleasant warmth that was beginning to thaw him out.

* * *

><p>"Can you continue?" Solas asked, looking up.<p>

Dorian slid his hands out from under the blankets and shook them. He'd been channeling a tightly controlled fire spell through his hands for the last several hours and was starting to lose feeling in his fingers. Even the lyrium wasn't helping anymore. He hadn't supplemented his innate power with that much lyrium in years. He was going to magic himself to death. He smiled at Solas. "Yes, I can," he said.

Solas smiled and shook his head. "If you can't, you should not. You're of no use to the Inquisition if you kill yourself."

"One thing I admire about you, Solas, is how often you speak the truth," Dorian said. "The obvious truth that anyone can see with his or her eyes closed." He pressed a hand to his temple. He felt like his skull was cracking open. He'd never come this dangerously close to expending everything he had before, and it was frightening to him.

"Go rest, Dorian," Solas said with a sigh. "I have some skill with primal magic. I doubt it will be as finessed as yours, but if need be I can use it." He searched Dorian's face; but Dorian was careful to only belie irritation and condescension.

At last Dorian got to his feet, feeling quite unsteady, but doing his damnedist not to show it. He gave Solas a nod and headed for his tent. He meant to lie back and stare at the tent wall and sulk at being dismissed, but the moment he pulled the pile of furs over his head he passed out into blessed oblivion.

* * *

><p>Cullen, Leliana, Cassandra, and Josephine were arguing <em>again.<em> They'd done nothing but argue since… well, as long as Theo could remember since regaining consciousness. He was able to sip weak tea and broth and every day felt… not warmer, more like less frozen. Solas had set his dislocated shoulder and broken arm and had healed it, but Theo still had it bandaged and in a sling to prevent future injury. He wondered if he could continue to feign unconsciousness and pretend they didn't exist. Maybe they would stop if he broke in.

But if he broke in with news of the Elder One—Corypheus—they might start arguing afresh. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. He had closed the Breach; why hadn't that been enough?

He felt a warm hand on his forehead and opened his eyes slightly. Through the blur he saw dark skin, kind eyes… his heart jumped and he opened his eyes all the way, blinking quickly. Where his heart had been thudding before, now he felt a pang when he realized it was Mother Giselle, the Chantry mother who'd joined their ranks in the Hinterlands.

"With time to doubt, they've turned to blame," she told him. Her hand was comforting. It reminded him of being a little boy back in Ostwick; sometimes his mother would come into his room after he'd had a nightmare and lay her hand on his forehead and hum a little lullaby, then stay until he fell back asleep.

Theo struggled to sit up, and she assisted him. _I should not be alive,_ he thought. If Corypheus hadn't killed him, the avalanche should have. And yet here he was, a bit battered and cold, but alive. "If Corypheus doesn't kill us, all this infighting will," he said, and she nodded.

He didn't know how they'd overheard him—his voice sounded raspy and soft even to him—but his advisors stopped bickering and looked up. He pushed his hair out of his face and tried to swing his legs over the side of his cot, but couldn't just yet, so they came to him and settled around his bedside on upturned crates. "You didn't see what I saw," he said finally, the first words he'd said to much of anyone in days. He explained as much as he could about Corypheus. "It wasn't mages or templars that made this happen," he said finally. "It was fanatical belief about the world beyond. We need to stop reaching for the next world and start believing in this one."

Cullen looked at the ground and rubbed his eyes. Leliana bowed her head and rested her hand on Theo's knee. Cassandra remained standing with her arms crossed over her chest, but was nodding in agreement, and Josephine was looking around for a quill and parchment. They were all quiet and a little flushed from being called out on their arguing. Theo bit his lip. He felt he should apologize; after all, who was he to chastise some of the most connected people in all of Thedas?

"Shadows fall and hope has fled…steel your heart, the dawn will come…" Mother Giselle sang.

"The night is long and the path is dark; look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come," Leliana and Cullen joined in.

And suddenly everyone was singing the old Chantry hymn. The voices swelled around him, more joining with each verse, and the choruses echoing off the mountainsides. Soldiers, civilians, and scouts and mages all began to gather around him. Theo's voice caught in his throat and his eyes felt hot as the first people began to kneel down around him. He was afraid to blink lest it cause tears to spill down his cheeks and make him look stupider than he already did.

It happened anyway. Cassandra knelt and presented her sword to him; Cullen did the same. Even Mother Giselle bent down on her knee in the snow. Theo blinked, trying to get the tears out of his eyes, but it was too much. The voices lifted into the night and his chest swelled.

"You have given us a reason to hope," Mother Giselle said when the hymn had finished. She rested her hand on his arm and met his eyes.

Theo laughed and wiped his tears with his good arm. "So I have," he admitted, sniffing. He glanced up when Solas approached, his willowy elven form giving him a measure of quiet that humans just seemed to lack, no matter how they'd trained. "Thank you for helping me," he said when Mother Giselle got up.

Solas passed his hand over Theo's injured arm. His hand glowed blue, and Theo felt the ache subside a bit more. "Dorian helped as well," he said. "His finesse with warming magic probably saved your life. You were nearly frozen to death when you were found."

Theo blinked and hoped his flush did not show in the shadows. "That was good of him. I'll have to thank him," he said a bit formally.

Solas gave no indication that he read below the surface of Theo's words. "I have some theories about this orb I heard you mention," he said. "I would like to do more research in the Fade, but for now, the appearance of Corypheus has changed the Inquisition. It has changed you; for the better or worse will remain to be seen. Haven is lost to us, and we cannot hope to remain in the mountains."

"Where to then?" Theo asked a bit warily.

"To the north there lies a place," Solas began. "A place that waits for a force to hold it. A place where you can build the Inquisition."

A shiver went up Theo's spine as he realized what Solas was insinuating. He looked around. Most people had risen and gone back to their tasks. Even his advisors were busying themselves with anything other than arguing. Josephine occasionally cast guilty glances his way.

He could not go back. He could only go forward. The only way out of this was to see it through.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Oh wow, the amount of follows and faves blowing up my inbox is amazing, and I thank you so very, very much! I also extend thanks to Quietsan, mille libri, dr. kitten, deagh, olivebg, Melysande, karebear, FenZev, and Bathorybabe for reviewing. It means so much to me :) I'm enjoying writing Theo's growth as much as I am the budding romance between him and Dorian. Thank you again!


	8. Homecoming

_Chapter 8: Homecoming_

Even though he was spending time hiking through the rough mountain terrain, Theo was feeling better and stronger with each passing day. Solas had declared his shoulder sufficiently healed to remove the sling and though it was still stiff, Theo felt well enough to practice shooting a light draw recurve bow that Scout Harding let him borrow. His advisors spent evenings in camp glancing at him and whispering; Solas came to tend to his healing injuries and check on his mark. The Iron Bull came to talk with him often, and he always laughed when Theo blushed upon hearing the story of being carried back to camp by the massive man.

"You weren't walking back yourself, Boss," he said with a grin. "Besides. How many other people can say a strong and manly Qunari carried their unconscious ass back to camp?"

Krem counted on his fingers. "There was that time Grim got his arse kicked … and then Rocky fell down that shaft…" Bull glared at Krem with his one eye. "My point is," Krem said to Theo, "you're not as special as he wants you to think." But he was smiling, and it eased Theo's embarrassment.

He did not see much of Dorian; sometimes he caught a glimpse of the mage and his face broke into a smile; but when he tried to catch up with him, Dorian melted into a crowd. For someone who stood out so well, he was frustratingly good at blending in. Theo just sighed. He had too many other things to worry about right now, and he supposed he should just feel fortunate that Dorian had not left yet; at least not before Theo could thank him for helping to save his life.

The fourth morning out they crested a rise and the mountains opened up around them. In a valley between the ranges, a massive keep had been built, seeming to have been carved out of the living stone. No banners waved from its battlements and no forces walked its walls. A bridge of stone, carved from the mountain itself, led into the castle.

"_Tarasyl'an Te'las._ The place where the sky is kept back," Solas said, appearing beside Theo. Josephine and Cullen approached, followed by Leliana and Cassandra. "In common tongue it has been called Skyhold. It was once a place of Elven ritual, though over the centuries it has changed hands. It's remained empty for a long while."

Theo smiled in spite of himself and didn't even care how Solas had known this place was here. It was filled with promise, and that was what mattered to him. "Time to fill it up again," he said, striking off toward the bridge. He didn't look to see if anyone was following him; the prospect of having a place to settle that was just for the Inquisition, after the days of trudging through ice and snow and bitter winds, was exciting.

The drawbridge was down, as if they were expected; but the winds whistled softly through the gate and the only thing that came to greet them was a flurry of skittering dead leaves. As soon as they came into the main courtyard it felt warmer, less exposed, and the sun shone down more softly. Theo surveyed the enormous walls bearing down on them. To say Skyhold was in a state of disrepair would be an understatement, but it was far better than camping in the mountains indefinitely. And they could repair it, make it their own. Make it permanent. Everywhere Theo had ever lived had been temporary. He stared up at the front entry and decided right then that this would be home. Forever.

He started up the stairs toward the front entry and turned to find that only Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine had followed; everyone else waited below, watching expectantly. "What?" he asked, suddenly nervous.

"We have been speaking amongst ourselves the whole way here," Cullen began. "The Inquisition requires a leader. You've already been leading through your choices," he said when Theo tried to protest.

Theo shook his head to clear it and wondered if he'd heard correctly. Both Leliana and Josephine nodded; below, Cassandra and Solas waited, as did the Iron Bull, his Chargers, and… yes, just off to the side, Dorian. His heart twisted in his chest. "This was unanimous? You all really have that much faith in me?" he asked. It suddenly felt hard to breathe, and he wasn't sure if it was pride or panic that swelled in his chest.

Cullen nodded. "We do, but more importantly, _they_ do. They will follow, Theodane. Where you lead, we all will follow. We are with you until the death."

Suddenly Leliana was holding out an ornate sword and Josephine was smiling, but muttering for him to take it. Theo had never held a sword before; always a bow. "It's ceremonial," Josephine hissed between her teeth, smiling all the while.

"Your leader!" Cullen bellowed and was greeted by raucous cheering. Theo looked over the sea of people below. "Your herald!" More cheering. Theo was dizzy with it all. "Your…_Inquisitor!"_

Theo took a deep breath and took the sword. It was heavier than he'd imagined; he needed two hands, and his left arm was still weak; somehow he managed to hold it aloft. The roar of all those people filled the silent courtyard. They had followed him from Haven and through the mountains and were willing to settle here, all because of him.

No, he thought, lowering the sword. As he did the cheers faded. "This Inquisition isn't about me," he began, surprised by the sound of his voice. He sounded sure and calm, though he certainly didn't feel that way. "It is about each and every one of you and what you believe. It is about making our world safe again. The red templars acted under the influence of Corypheus, and it is Corypheus who must be stopped!" The mere thought of that _thing_ demanding that he kneel, just because it commanded him, stirred up anger Theo didn't realize he possessed. "We will find vengeance for Haven, and we will put an end to this evil!"

"Well done," Josephine said as they headed into the main hall; they could still hear the cheers of the people in the courtyard. Cullen took the sword, much to Theo's relief. "You handled that quite well, and without any briefing." She was smiling, though she looked around at the dilapidated hall with a critical eye as she redecorated in her mind. He could see her thinking about presentation, guest comfort… she never stopped.

"Why did you spring that on me?" Theo demanded.

"If you had time to think about it you would have declined," Leliana said. "You had to act in the moment. Those choices made in the moment, without time to think, are born of true character."

"You tricked me," Theo said, but his face hurt from smiling so much. "I'm glad you did, to be honest," he added. He looked around the derelict great hall. There was so much to do. "Where to start?"

"We're going to have to learn more about Corypheus if we want to be able to out maneuver him," Cullen said.

Leliana smiled. "We do know one of his plans, at least. We saw it in the future at Redcliffe." Only Leliana would be able to see something positive in that damned-to-the-Void vision, Theo thought. "He'd assassinated Celene; when Orlais fell, that opened the floodgates to allow Tevinter to move through the South. If we can save Celene…"

"We can disrupt his plans," Theo said with a grin. "You're brilliant."

"Is Corypheus allied with Tevinter?" Cullen asked.

Theo shrugged. "I don't know. But I can certainly find out." He'd been looking for an excuse to learn more about the Tevinter Imperium anyway.

There was too much to do in that first week of settling in for Theo to do much research. He had to get used to this business of being the Inquisitor. People bowed when he passed; they addressed him as 'Your Worship' and they listened when he spoke. There were scout teams to send out to various parts of Orlais and Ferelden; camps were set up, correspondence interrupted, Venatori agents captured and questioned.

"Hey, your Inquisitorialness!" Varric called as Theo tried to head up to the library for the umpteenth time today alone. They'd been receiving shipments of texts and scrolls from all over Thedas: universities looking to get into the Inquisition's good graces. And he'd overheard rumors that Dorian liked to spend time up there. He still had to thank the mage.

"Varric," Theo said with a smile. "I think I preferred 'Fletch', personally. It's certainly easier to say," he added.

Varric shrugged. "I call it like I see it. Besides, maybe Fletch can be your undercover name. When you run off in the night to woo women and dole out vigilante justice."

Theo blushed. "Inquisitorialness is fine, Varric. Did you need me?"

Varric glanced around and stepped closer to Theo. "I have connections, as you well know." Theo nodded. "And… well, I know someone. She's dealt with Corypheus before. And you should know that… well, I have too."

This was news. "Can she help?" Varric nodded. "Do what you can to get her here. Introduce us." He smiled and took his leave, wondering what about Varric's contact made him so nervous. Oh well. Let Josephine or Leliana deal with it. Theo had other matters to tend to.

He passed through the atrium with its crumbling plaster walls. The harsh cawing of the ravens in the rookery echoed all the way down here. He headed up the staircase into the library, a circular room that overlooked the atrium below and had a view of the rookery above. Theo wasn't sure that the noisy ravens were the most conducive to a library atmosphere, but there were other issues to look into.

Hazy sunlight filtered through the dusty windows. Books had been stacked by each of the alcoves waiting to be filed away. The shelves were still dusty, though the cobwebs had been removed. Fiona was working with a few mages to catalogue magical texts. She still didn't look at Theo, as if embarrassed by her initial choice to side with Alexius. Still, he tried to smile and wave anyway. Did Inquisitors smile and wave? He shook his head; he still had so much to learn.

He found Dorian in a little alcove poring over a book in the sunlight; occasionally his mustache twitched and he looked like he might sneeze from all the dust. Theo cleared his throat and Dorian looked up. "Settling in?" he asked, feeling suddenly shy even though he'd been the one to seek Dorian out.

Dorian closed the book, and Theo wondered how he would remember what page he was on. "It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but I suppose it will do eventually. At least there is an adequate library." He stood and stretched languidly. "I've not seen you in some time… I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

Theo blushed. "No, I'm just trying to figure out this Inquisitor business." _And I thought you were avoiding me._ "I never got to thank you. Solas told me how you helped save me. So… thank you." Whenever he thought about it he felt embarrassed that anyone, but especially Dorian, would have seen him like that.

"You're most welcome," Dorian said with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"He also said you nearly spent all your mana. Why? Isn't that dangerous?" Theo asked.

Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall beside the window. "Well, the Inquisition needs an Inquisitor. I couldn't very well let you freeze to death."

"I hadn't been named Inquisitor yet."

Dorian shrugged. "Does it matter? It's my mana, and I've always been a bit reckless anyway. Keeps my life from getting too dull." His lips curved in a playful smile. "Besides, I got to have my hands all over you."

Theo's face and ears burned. "Well, I guess I can't complain," he said, staring at the floor.

Dorian's laugh echoed in the atrium. "At any rate, I came to help the Inquisition. If saving your life so you could become Inquisitor is the only thing I do, I'm sure that would be enough. Rest assured though, it is not the only thing I plan on doing. I can imagine myself in this for the long haul," he said, looking around the library. But he was still smiling, as if the dusty room held a certain charm for him.

"Well," Theo said. He hadn't quite been expecting that. "I'm glad you'll be staying." He cleared his throat and tried to avoid Dorian's amused gaze. "I also wanted to know if you've been able to learn anything about Corypheus. Since he's Tevinter and all," Theo said after an awkward moment.

Dorian's grin faded. "When Alexius tried to recruit me to the Venatori, I assumed their Elder One was another Magister. And now we discover that the Elder One is not only a Magister, but one of those that became the first darkspawn." He sighed. "Not all Tevinters are like him, though. Then again, not all Tevinters are like me. I can't help that I have idiot countrymen."

Theo leaned against a shelf. "You're not responsible, and anyone who thinks you are, just because of where you're from, is just as much of an idiot."

Dorian looked out the window, staring at nothing. "I do appreciate your faith in me, though I suppose few others share your sentiment." He sighed. "I was born and bred in Tevinter, and it will always be my home to some degree. I was raised on the tales of the Blight's inception, but to suddenly realize that the tales are truth? It's a bit much to sort through, even for someone as intelligent as myself."

Theo grinned in spite of himself, at the way Dorian could go from melancholy to preening in a matter of moments. "You're very confident," he said.

Dorian turned and fixed him with an amused stare. "You would be too, if you were me. The product of a long and honored bloodline, distilled for the perfect blend of power and intelligence? Not to mention a certain degree of looks? What?" He asked suspiciously when Theo said nothing, but just stood there smiling.

"Just enjoying the show," Theo said in spite of himself and trying to ignore the very distracting tingle that he was feeling all over. "Thank you for the information on Corypheus."

Dorian looked almost disappointed. "That's all? A bit of shop talk and you're off to bigger, better things?"

"Just off to other things," Theo said quickly. "Certainly not better."

Dorian watched him, seeing more deeply into him than Theo would have liked. "Well. You are the Inquisitor, after all, for which I suppose congratulations are in order. Besides," he said as Theo turned to head back down the stairs, "I do enjoy watching you leave."

Dorian's laughter echoed after him. Of all the things Theo was grateful for at that moment, the greatest was knowing that no one had seen the Inquisitor nearly fall down the stairs.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>Many thanks to dr. kitten, who made mention of an awkward, flirty, and heartfelt conversation between the two. I revised my first draft to reflect more of the awkward flirtiness they share, and definitely appreciate the suggestion! Thank you all so much for the encouraging feedback, and the wonderful and lengthy conversations I've been getting into! I love talking Dragon Age, and I love talking writing with other writers, and I've been doing a lot of that lately. The discussions have been wonderful.

Thank you to olivebg, AgapeErosPhilia (who has a FANTASTIC Dorian short, GO READ IT! "Dorian Remembers a Friend"), FenZev, Bathorybabe, Melysande, Quietsan, mille libri, deagh, dr. kitten, and Yvaine-star, as well as the DA fanfiction writing group for the continued support and encouragement!


	9. Loyalties

_Chapter 9: Loyalties_

Dorian had been groomed to stand out, but over the last few years he'd become quite adept at blending in. There were so many people crowded into the great hall that it was easy to duck his head and slip through the crowd unnoticed. The room still needed quite a bit of repair, but then again, so did all of Skyhold. Masons and artisans had arrived by the dozens in the last week; scaffolding had been built up along the crumbling walls inside and out, and the hold had been filled with the sounds of mallets and scraping trowels. It was enough to give him a headache, and some nights he thought he heard those sounds in his dreams. Maybe he was just grinding his teeth.

The masons had cleared out of the hall for this, though. The Inquisitor was expected to preside over his first case and judge the first criminal of the Inquisition: Gereon Alexius.

Dorian wasn't certain what he felt; part of him wished Alexius the harshest punishment Theo could exact. But he also felt so much pity for the man he had been, and what he'd become. As they dragged Alexius in from the dungeons in his lyrium shackles he didn't look at anyone. His two guards stopped before the dais on which sat the Skyhold Throne, a massive and unwieldy seat made from the upper jaw of a dragon. Theo didn't look uncomfortable, exactly; more like determined and as a result, a bit awkward, which Dorian found inexplicably endearing.

_Fasta vass._ His mentor was being judged for serious crimes against the Inquisition and he was admiring the Inquisitor.

Josephine Montilyet stood to Theo's right. "As gratitude for restoring Redcliffe, the Fereldan crown has remanded custody and the judgment of Gereon Alexius to the Inquisition. He is charged with apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination of a political figure. Namely, you," she said with a glance at Theo. The Inquisitor's brow was furrowed and he leaned forward slightly as he listened. "Tevinter has stripped him of all rank and disavowed him."

Theo nodded. He stared at Alexius. "These are grave charges. I remember what would have happened had you succeeded."

Alexius refused to look at him. "Render your judgment, Inquisitor. Nothing matters now that I couldn't save my son."

Dorian did feel a pang in his chest at the despondency in Alexius's voice. Part of him wanted to run to his old mentor and tell him he'd heard from his son; Felix had written Dorian recently. He'd made it back to Tevinter and had an appointment with the Magisterium. His health continued to decline, but he hoped to tell what he knew before it was too late. The thought of Felix dying alone without his father, or without Dorian next to him was a lot for Dorian to bear, but Felix assured him he would be fine.

Theo leaned back in his seat and was silent for a long while as he stared at Alexius. "Gereon Alexius," he said at last. "You came to Ferelden to assist the rebel mages, and I see no reason for you to abandon that purpose. You are remanded to the custody of Grand Enchanter Fiona, and will assist her in training, equipping, and preparing the mages."

Alexius finally looked up. Dorian could not see his face, but was certain it was a mask of fury and hatred. "A headsman would have been kinder," he snarled as his chains were unlocked and Fiona came forward to escort him.

For his part Dorian found Theo's sense of irony quite refreshing. He'd have to tell him at some point, assuming he could get him away from all of his adoring new fans.

Dorian slipped out of the main hall, intending to head for the library again. His quarters were chilly and dusty; the little wooden cabin in Haven had been preferable. The library alcove was also dusty, but the sunlight was warm and the overstuffed chair comfortable; and the smell of the books almost reminded him of his time in the Vyrantium Circle. If he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply (and managed not to sneeze) he could still imagine he was there. He'd left Tevinter so suddenly; he wondered if he could ever go back.

Then the thought of his parents and did not want to go back. If it meant freezing in the mountains, he would not return to his family—if they could even be called that after what they did…

"Am I bothering you?"

Dorian opened his eyes and saw Theo leaning around a bookshelf, looking tired, but smiling shyly. "No, I thought I'd come up for some quiet time."

"So I am bothering you."

"I can enjoy quiet time with company," Dorian said. He gestured to another chair in the alcove. "Care to join me and discuss boring ancient texts? Honestly, we need to speak with Lady Montilyet and convince her to import some Nevarran romance novels."

"I didn't peg you as the romantic sort," Theo said with a smile. He hesitated for a moment before taking the seat offered to him. "Actually I needed quiet time too. After that judgment… I've never had to do anything like that before. Hold a man's life in my hands." He looked as if he'd been up half the night considering Alexius's fate. For all Dorian knew, he had. "I'm sorry. I guess because he was your mentor…"

"You wanted my approval?" Dorian asked. Theo chewed on his bottom lip uncertainly (and distractingly). "As the Inquisitor you will have difficult choices to make, and not everyone will always approve of them. As I'm not one of your advisors, I'm not sure why you think my approval matters." He kept his voice calm, but he could see he'd struck a nerve. "I suppose I'm not accustomed to people caring what I think. That was brash of me."

Theo shrugged. "I guess I also just needed someone to talk with, who's not going to try telling me what to do."

"And you think I'm that person? You flatter me, Inquisitor."

"Theo," he said. "Please, just Theo. Look, I still get the feeling that Cassandra and my advisor team are waiting for me to screw up. Solas is... well, he's Solas. He's mysterious and I'm never quite sure if he's listening to me, or to something he hears from the Fade. Varric's helpful, but you…"

"Are far more attractive than the dwarf, yes, I know," Dorian said with a grin as Theo's cheeks reddened. Maker, the man was easy to embarrass. "I'm sorry. I tease you too much, don't I."

Theo shrugged and half-smiled. "It's alright; everyone around here is so damned serious. What I was _going_ to say is that I'm always afraid Varric will turn me into a character in his books." He stood and stretched out his lean frame. "I need to get outside. Do you…want to join me?" he asked without looking at Dorian.

Dorian would never have thought that someone like Theo Trevelyan would make his stomach twist about in his abdomen. "It is a bit dreary in here, and I dare say some fresh air would be good after today's events."

They headed out into the courtyard, and Dorian could hardly miss the suspicious glare Mother Giselle flashed him, as if she were indignant that he would dare spend time with the Inquisitor. "Do you ever tire of having these Chantry sorts around?" he asked.

Theo shrugged. "Sometimes. I guess it comes with the territory. Though I don't suppose the Herald of Andraste is supposed to say such things," he added with a laugh. "Is the Chantry in Tevinter as obnoxious?" he asked. As it turned out he was full of many questions about Tevinter.

Dorian found he enjoyed talking about home. "I left about three years ago," he explained after Theo's barrage of questioning. "I do miss it, blood magic and all. Oh, I don't practice blood magic," he said quickly when Theo's head snapped up and he fixed Dorian with a worried stare. Dorian stared back. "Maker. But you _do_ have lovely eyes," he said suddenly. Felix and Relenus had both had eyes dark as night, liquid pools he could fall into. But Theo's eyes were like leaves and grass and warm summer days.

Just now he was blinking rapidly. "I… could say the same for you," Theo said and looked away. "I should go back before Leliana has to send Scout Harding and a search party out after me," he said.

"Just think about the scandal," Dorian agreed, though he was slightly disappointed, and also a bit angry with himself for taking it too far. He'd never had a problem seducing a man, but usually he made certain that the man in question wouldn't mind being seduced. This was the Inquisitor, the bloody Herald of Andraste. This was going to be Relenus all over again. _Venhedis._

Theo stared up at the sky for a moment. If Dorian looked closely he could see his pulse fluttering at the base of his neck. He turned away quickly before Theo caught him looking. "I learned one useful thing growing up in Ostwick."

"Just the one?"

"Pretty much," Theo said, but he did not grin. He was the Inquisitor and had outwitted certain death at least twice, and he was still bitter about that pithy Free Marches holding? "I learned that no matter what you do, people will talk."

"Talk can be damaging," Dorian pointed out. Maker, the talk that must have gone around the Imperium when he ran away… and his father probably did everything he could to deflect blame from himself.

"Only if you value their opinion of you," Theo said with a shrug.

"You're the Inquisitor," Dorian said. It was clear that, for all his good intentions and determination, Theo did not yet quite understand what that meant. "Your reputation…"

"Will be determined by my choices and my actions. And I won't let petty gossip determine _those_."

Dorian chuckled in spite of himself. "You're a rare breed, Theodane. I feel like I've stumbled upon a unicorn. You should go find Lady Montilyet, though. You may not care about scandal, but I feel it's a bit early in your Inquisitorial career."

"Are you to be my publicity advisor then?" Theo asked, laughing.

"I am at the service of the Inquisition, your Worship," Dorian said and bowed ridiculously low. Life in Tevinter hadn't been conducive to humor; everything was too competitive and focused. It was pleasant and easy to laugh with Theo, and seemed to break some of the tension that was bound to be brought on by the potential apocalypse. Dorian hoped no one was watching him watch Theo walk away. It was a rather lovely view, after all.

For the next few days Dorian really _did_ avoid Trevelyan; for all Theo's laughter, Dorian was genuinely afraid he had overstepped his bounds. He avoided the library and tried to settle into his room. New furniture had finally been provided. It was rustic and stocky, but he couldn't expect much else in this place. The bed linens were clean and decent enough; he'd been raised sleeping in silk, but the last few years had been fur and linen and anything else he could find. He wasn't going to be too picky. There was a small fireplace which he lit easily with a flick of his hand, and there was a letter that had been left on his writing desk, which had not been there earlier. He found this most curious.

_Dearest Dorian,_

_I hope this missive finds you well. I just stood on the Magisterium floor and told all those old, self-important cocks about your Inquisitor. Some were most impressed by his talents; others seemed to find his existence worrisome. But such is the Magisterium. Unfortunately there was little way of keeping your involvement out of it. _

_I know nothing will erase the things I did when I was with my father and the Venatori, but this will help me atone. I fear that this will be my last great task in this life; I feel weaker every day, and I don't doubt that by the time you read this letter I will probably be dead. Please do not think less of me. You were like a brother to me, sometimes more. I will always cherish you and hope the best for you and your involvement in the Inquisition._

_ Felix_

_ PS: Your father was present at the Magisterium session. He tried to ask me if I'd spoken with you. I pretended to faint._

Dorian sat down on the edge of his bed and reread Felix's letter. He could almost hear Felix's voice in his ear, speaking it to him. The thought that he would never see Felix again, even if he did return to the Imperium, was difficult to wrap his mind around. And then he reread the postscript. His father had asked about him. He didn't know if he felt pleased or terrified. His father now knew he'd joined the Inquisition. With all that the Inquisition stood for, it may as well have been the enemy of the Imperium.

The sun was beginning to set so he lit a lamp with another flick of his fingers and settled in with one of the books from upstairs. It was in Arcanum, a language he'd studied in Vyrantium. It had been a long time since he'd read it, and he was looking forward to the challenge.

"Magister Pavus?" came the muffled voice through his door, accompanied by a knock.

Dorian sighed and dropped the book on his bed. No matter how often he explained that he was not really a magister, just because he was a mage from Tevinter, it never seemed to stick. He pasted a smile on and opened the door.

"The Inquisitor would like to see you," the messenger said. "He's in the war room with the advisors."

So not a clandestine meeting under the stars then. Dorian didn't feel particularly disappointed, though it would have been nice. Perhaps Theo had decided to appoint him publicity advisor after all. He smoothed his hair and followed the page through the drafty halls. The work was getting done little by little, and it occurred to Dorian that Theo intended to make this a permanent dwelling—not merely a temporary quarters for the Inquisition. Dorian was having enough trouble thinking beyond the end of the day. Yes, they'd outwitted Alexius's nightmare, but the presence of Corypheus made it difficult to think of a calm and happy future.

They passed through the anteroom that had become Lady Montilyet's office, just between the grand hall and the war room itself. The halls were quiet and Dorian was transported back to a time when he'd been a young boy being led to his father's study by a slave, usually over something he'd done wrong.

He was surprised to find that Theo and his advisors were also joined by the Iron Bull, Varric, and an unfamiliar woman. She was clearly a mage, and an angry one. Dorian could feel the currents of mana rolling off of her into the air. All it would take was one step into the Fade and he was certain he'd see the tentacles of her magic flailing about like some leviathan ready to take down a ship.

Theo looked up when he came in and he smiled. "Dorian. This is Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall. Or… she was."

The Champion just gave a haughty nod in greeting, which Dorian returned. He'd heard stories about the Champion, and was fascinated that she'd taken to Force magic. So few did. He'd have to ask her about it. And maybe about Anders if he got the chance. He always enjoyed a little bit of drama.

"Right," Theo said. He rested his hands on the edge of the war table, a massive shining slab of wood that seemed to grow out of a tree trunk sprouting through the floor. In this room, in this light, he seemed far surer of himself. Each choice he made, each action he took, seemed to grow him more and more. "Leliana had some disturbing news about the Grey Wardens starting to disappear, and Varric remembered that Hawke had a friend who might be able to help," he said.

"His name is Stroud. His last position was in Crestwood," she said.

Iron Bull crossed his arms over his chest. "And you want us to go with you," he surmised. His scarred face broke into a wide smile. "When do we leave?"

"We sent Harding out with the advanced scouts the other day. Reports are starting to come back by raven," Leliana said. "Crestwood sustained major casualties during the Blight; even though that was ten years ago, you will likely meet some resistance."

"I'll send Krem and the other Chargers on ahead to clear a path and help out if you want," Bull said, and Leliana nodded. "They work fast, which is what you need."

"Varric and Hawke will go, and it is most wise for the Inquisitor to have a mage along to round out his team. Especially you," Leliana said to Dorian. "Crestwood is plagued by undead."

All eyes were on Dorian. How did she figure that out about him? He generally liked to keep his specialization quiet because it tended to put people off. "Fine, I suppose the cat is out of its bag now," he said rolling his eyes. "I'm a Necromancer. I deal in death, and I'm quite good at it." He heard the Iron Bull inhale sharply and make a bit of a growling noise. Hawke was staring at him with a fascinated gleam in her bright blue eyes. "I don't raise the dead," he snapped at the one-eyed Qunari. "But I'm pleased nonetheless that I'll be of use."

Plans were made to depart the next morning, and Josephine gave Dorian a list to give to the quartermaster in order to be supplied. She looked him up and down and paused on his wavy hair and curled mustache. "May Andraste watch over you, and your hair," she said with a pitying grin. "Crestwood is experiencing heavy rains of late."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I know everyone is eager for them to finally get together. They will-next chapter! Honest! But I really felt like there had to be a period of self-discovery for both of them, but especially Theo, who is not nearly as secure in himself as Dorian is. Many many thanks to FenZev, karebear, Bathorybabe, mille libri, olivebg, Quietsan, Adhara Elric, Melysande, AgapeErosPhilia, and dr. kitten for the reviews and the encouragement and support, and especially all the wonderful people I'm meeting and conversations I'm having. Many thanks as well to everyone following, and showing support through following! I can't say enough how much I appreciate it._  
><em>


	10. Last Resorts and New Beginnings

_Author's Note 1: _Some events Dorian recalls are part of my headcanon for his backstory, as told in _The Magician_. (and thank you dr. kitten for pointing out that I needed a page break-this is what happens when I get too excited to post a chapter, and my battery's dying while I'm getting an oil change!)

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><p><em>Chapter 10: Last Resorts and New Beginnings<em>

Theo reread the letter Mother Giselle had pressed into his hands as he'd been on his way out the gate, on his horse and everything. He wasn't surprised that Dorian's presence made her uncomfortable, but the fact that she'd gone and contacted the mage's father in Tevinter did not sit well with Theo one bit. No wonder she'd waited until he was heading out on urgent business. She probably knew he'd have something to say about it.

He scowled. He didn't know if he should be pleased that the Revered Mother was already fearful of him as the Inquisitor; or offended that she was trying to manipulate him like a young and pliable Chantry initiate. Regardless of what Mother Giselle had said Theo was not going to trick Dorian like that. But going outside into the rain and confronting him was another thing.

Still, Theo was the Inquisitor, and as such difficult decisions were bound to fall to him; he was sure this was just the first of many he'd have to deal with regarding his closest followers.

He slipped on his cloak and pulled the hood up. He ran across the camp, his boots squishing in the mud. A fire had been started below a canopy that kept it safe from the rain. Bull, Varric, and Hawke were huddled under the canopy and waved as Theo passed. "Seriously, all that sneaking around, codeword nonsense is complete shit," Bull was saying. "The trick to being a good spy is not acting like one." Varric was absorbing all of it.

He paused before Dorian's tent, his nerves threatening to get the best of him. _You're a grown man, Theodane,_ he told himself even as he thought his stomach was going to crawl up his throat. "Dorian?" he asked at the crack in the tent entrance. As he waited his mind raced through any number of scenarios that did nothing to calm him. Even the good ones made him more nervous.

The tent flap rustled and Dorian peeked out. His face broke into a smile. "Inquisitor," he said. "Care to come in from the rain?"

Theo cast one last glance at the fire, but Varric and Iron Bull were still involved in their discussion. "I think Varric's got a new novel in the works. _The Ben-Hassrath Who Loved Me,_ probably," he said by way of greeting, and Dorian chuckled and waved him in. Theo ducked his head and stepped inside, slipping off his boots as quickly as he could to minimize the damage the mud was going to cause. "Thank you for coming along," he said, standing before the tent entrance in his dripping cloak.

Dorian nodded. "I signed on to assist the Inquisition any way I could. If being cold and soaked is of use, then I live only to serve," he said with his ironic grin. He settled back on the pile of furs and blankets and gestured for Theo to do likewise. His tent was lit by a globe of flames in a small jar he'd placed in the center of the floor. It provided some warmth without a danger of burning the tent down. Theo was still amazed at Dorian's command of magic, and how easily he used it without even thinking. "Something on your mind?" Dorian asked, watching him.

Theo removed his cloak and took a deep breath. "I have a letter for you," he said, handing over the missive from Mother Giselle.

Dorian's grin spread. "Oh, I do hope it's naughty," he said. Theo held his breath as Dorian read. His handsome face fell and his gray eyes narrowed. "Why bother giving this to me?" he asked.

Theo shied away from the barely checked rage in Dorian's voice. "Mother Giselle gave it to me. She's been in contact with your family and said that there was a retainer for House Pavus in Redcliffe."

The fire in the jar died to a dull ember. Dorian looked frighteningly pale even in that dim light. His face twisted into a grimace. "Probably some henchman hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter," he snapped, crumpling the letter in his hand.

"Would your own father do that to you?" Theo asked in a scared whisper. His father barely looked at him; but he'd take that over what Dorian was insinuating. Dorian said nothing. "I would go with you," Theo ventured, and Dorian looked up. He waved his hand and the flames grew again. "If it is a trap, we escape and kill everyone. We're good at that." Dorian said nothing and still looked troubled. Theo tried to smile. "Dorian…"

The mage sighed and absently toyed with a buckle on his clothing. "To say there's bad blood between myself and my family is an understatement larger than the Imperium itself," he said at last. "I don't care for their choices, and… they don't care for mine."

Theo had been trying to relax, but Dorian radiated tension and made it difficult. "I think you should talk to him. Find out what he wants," he ventured.

"I don't recall asking what _you_ thought," Dorian snapped. Theo recoiled as if he'd been slapped. Dorian sighed and rubbed his temples, the letter still clutched in one hand. When he looked up his gray eyes were sad. "I apologize. That was unworthy of me. I… will consider it."

Theo didn't trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded and hurriedly got up. He pulled on his boots, nearly falling over, and did not even bother with his cloak. He dashed out into the rain; Dorian didn't call after him or move, and Theo didn't know if that hurt worse than his words. _Stupid. So stupid,_ he thought.

"Hey Fletch!" Varric called when he spotted Theo. "I need your opinion!" But Theo continued back to his tent. He slipped through the flaps and buried himself deep into his bedroll. His first task when he got back to Skyhold was to fire Mother Giselle.

* * *

><p>Dorian hated feeling like an ass, but this time it truly was his own fault and he truly could not deny it. The moment he'd snapped at Theo and seen the wounded expression on his face, he'd regretted his harsh words. Sorry seemed too blasé; besides, Theo truly hadn't known the magnitude of what he was suggesting. Dorian had not exactly been forthcoming with that knowledge.<p>

He'd spent the night considering his father's letter and turning his options over in his mind. He'd sworn when he left Tevinter that he was leaving his family behind forever, so to meet even with a retainer seemed to go against his promise to himself. But what harm could it do? If anything, it would be the opportunity to tell Halward Pavus where to stick his shiny magic staff.

It was a very tempting thought.

Hawke and Varric had taken the lead and were reminiscing about Kirkwall, which in Dorian's opinion, was an utter shit hole. The Iron Bull walked, leading his horse; sometimes he rode, but even his Ferelden Forder was not built to withstand a Qunari for long distances. Theo rode slightly ahead of him, and Dorian brought up the end. Every time he looked at Theo's back and slightly slumped shoulders he got a guilty pang in his chest. He didn't like it.

With a sigh, he spurred his horse into a trot to catch up to Theo. "There's this thing you should understand about Tevinters," he began. "We're excessively proud, which makes many of us come off as asses. And then there are those of us who are genuinely asses. Like myself."

Theo didn't look at him. "You're not an ass, Dorian," he said. "I would give all of Skyhold for my father to reach out to me. I suppose I assumed wrongly that you would feel the same about yours."

"_Vishante kaffas, _even after the way he's treated you? Or not treated you, as the case may be."

Theo did glance at him then, with a ghost of a smile on his pale face. There were deep purple smudges under his eyes; apparently Dorian wasn't the only one who'd slept poorly. "He's my father, Dorian. No matter what, there will always be some masochistic part of me that wants him to notice, and possibly even be proud of me."

Dorian wasn't sure if he wanted to embrace Theo or smack him across the face. He drew in a deep breath. "_If_ we were to go to Redcliffe, how far out of our way would we be going?"

"I told the others I got a letter suggesting some residual Tevinter activity in Redcliffe. Hawke and Varric are willing to go on ahead to Crestwood and look for Stroud while you and I go to Redcliffe with the Iron Bull. He seems to think it's not safe for me to travel alone."

"With a Tevinter." Dorian added the words the Qunari had probably really used.

Theo shook his head. "He didn't say that. He said that since I'm officially the Inquisitor, it's dangerous for me to be alone. In his words, "people won't fuck with me as much" if I've got a Qunari bodyguard."

Lovely. Not only was Dorian going to meet with a retainer for his family, but he was doing so while being accompanied by the Inquisitor _and_ a Qunari. His reputation was increasing exponentially. But Dorian just steeled his nerves and forced a smile. He was probably making a mistake, but being around Theo tended to have that effect on him. "As long as it doesn't jeopardize the Inquisition."

Theo did look at him then, with a grateful expression on his drawn face. "It won't."

Dorian hoped he wouldn't regret this.

* * *

><p>"I'm not comfortable with you going in there alone. Everything about this screams trap," Bull said. He stared down at Theo, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sure, they <em>said<em> Tevinter disowned that Alexius asshole, but maybe that was to lure you in, too."

"The Imperium doesn't use excommunication as a means of trapping someone," Dorian snapped. He'd been even more on edge as they entered Redcliffe village. Theo had kept some distance, afraid Dorian might lash out again, and frankly, Dorian couldn't blame him. "You're wanted or you're not."

Bull rolled his eye. "Fine, but I'm waiting right outside the door. Moment I hear anything I don't like, shit's getting real." Ironically, he was smiling, as if he enjoyed the idea of bursting into a room of Tevinters and fighting them all.

Dorian met Theo's eyes and the Inquisitor nodded. Dorian took a deep breath and entered. The last time he'd been to the Gull and Lantern the tavern had been packed with rebel mages. Now it was completely empty. _Venhedis,_ it _was_ a trap. He held his staff out, poised to strike. Theo already had his bow out and an arrow nocked.

"Dorian."

His breath caught and his blood went cold as it flowed through his veins. Halward Pavus himself descended the staircase, looking just the same as the day Dorian had left home for good. The whole bullshit story about a retainer was just that. If Dorian came through this alive he meant to have some very strong words with Mother Giselle, and nearly all of them would be in Tevene. "Father," he said, not sure if it was a greeting or an observation. He felt dirty just saying the word. "What is this then? Ambush? Warm family reunion? Another kidnapping attempt?" he wished he could keep the venom from dripping from his voice, but seeing Halward Pavus again, looking unchanged and self-righteous and calm, stoked Dorian's rage.

"When Felix stood before the senate and said he'd seen you… I had to know how you were," his father said. His dark eyes were sorrowful, which only made Dorian even angrier. "I wanted to see you for myself."

"Well, here I am in all my glory," Dorian snapped. "Just as much a pariah as ever. And now you get to tell your Magister friends your outcast son has joined the Inquisition as well." He clutched his staff tightly, imagining that it was his father's neck.

"Dorian, please…"

"I think Dorian has a right to be angry," Theo said, surprising the both of them. "He was tricked." For a moment Dorian had been so angry he'd forgotten that Theo was still with him; he'd lowered his bow, but still twirled an arrow between his fingers. Those eyes of his, so lovely and gentle, were narrowed and focused: the eyes of a hunter. Dorian hadn't been sure about having Theo along, but it felt good to know Theo was there for him.

Halward gave a melancholy sigh. "And this is the Inquisitor. I'd have expected someone more imposing," he said, but he sounded more curious than insulting. "This is what you've been driven to? Joining this… Inquisition? Why?" He settled down at a table, sitting straight but managing to still look relaxed.

He gestured for his son to join him, but Dorian would never give him that satisfaction. "Because it's the right thing to do," Dorian snapped. The air around him crackled with electricity and Theo took a step back. Dorian took a deep breath and calmed his mana. He would not let his father see him lose control. "I wish I could say I'm sorry if it embarrasses you, but I'm not. I won't be ashamed of who I am."

Dorian's pride had always had a way of irritating Halward, and just now his father stared at him with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. "Do you still think _that's_ what this is about?"

"It's what it will always be about," Dorian said and his voice cracked just a little. "You and your fucking legacy. After what you tried to do you don't _deserve_ a legacy!" His nostrils flared and it was an effort to gather his mana within him and keep from blasting his father from here to the Void.

"Dorian?" Theo asked quietly from behind him.

_Dammit_. He didn't mean to be putting on such a show in front of Theo, but his father made him _so angry_. "Perhaps you should know exactly what you walked into," Dorian said, keeping as calm as possible. Theo didn't know, but if they were to fight side by side in the Inquisition, he deserved to. "Back home children aren't born. They're crafted. Generations of interbreeding and careful selection to distil the perfect mage in power, body, and mind. Any perceived flaw is shameful and must be hidden."

Theo blinked those big, innocent green eyes. "Flaw?" he asked, brow furrowed and genuinely confused as he looked between Dorian and Halward, who was staring at the ground with his fingertips pressed to his forehead.

Dorian's lips curved into a cruel grin as he stared at his father. "I prefer the company of men. As in, I will never marry a woman and produce a perfect little mage heir to carry on the Pavus legacy. I would rather sleep with a man and be true to myself than turn into _that,_" he said, glaring and pointing the head of his staff at his father.

"Dorian, please," Halward said. It was an evident effort for him to keep the tension in his voice to a minimum, which pleased Dorian. "Don't do this."

"What's more," Dorian said, turning back to Theo, "it wasn't enough for him to hate me for my choices." He felt like he was being slowly strangled with the memories. "He taught me to hate blood magic, but the moment that he realized I would never be what he wanted he tried to use it. To change me." Theo inhaled sharply, but when Dorian glanced at him, the Inquisitor merely looked deeply sad. Dorian sighed. "This was a waste of time. I'm leaving."

Theo shook his head and laid a hand on Dorian's arm. "Don't leave it like this," he said quietly. "You don't have to make amends. In fact, I'd be surprised if Dorian could forgive you," Theo said to Halward, which, coming from someone who had such issues with his own father was something. He turned back to Dorian. "But at least talk. I'll wait. Over here." He blinked uncertainly before sidling off into the shadows.

Dorian was begrudgingly impressed at how Theo had handled Halward; then again, if the Inquisitor had known anything about Halward going into this, Dorian wasn't sure Theo would have handled it as well. Dorian hadn't been alone with his father since the day he'd been dragged home from Orlais. Halward had that same confused expression on his face now that he'd had back then. "I only missed the sound of your voice," Halward said at last. His shoulders slumped and he looked almost defeated. "I longed to hear it; and the first time I do hear it in years, you were shouting at me."

"Did you really expect a warm greeting after what you'd done?" Dorian asked. He was torn between following Theo out and blasting his father with his staff. Neither seemed entirely appropriate though. He looked at his father and wished he could feel something: love, sympathy… anything but the festering anger.

"I betrayed your trust. I betrayed my convictions because of foolish, selfish pride. Your friend the Inquisitor is most astute in his observations. I… I would ask your forgiveness." Halward stared at the tabletop. He couldn't even look at his own son while attempting to apologize.

Dorian shook his head. He could not believe he was hearing this. "What should I forgive, father? The blood magic? The betrayal? The way nothing I ever did was good enough? That my choice to love a man over a woman blinded you to any other accomplishment to my name?"

He would have loved to hear his father say "all of it", but Halward was not only a Tevinter Magister, he was also Dorian's father, and as horridly stubborn as his son. "I betrayed you, and for that I am sorry," Halward said simply. "I see you've even divested yourself of your birthright." Dorian had been without his birthright amulet for years. His father's simple observation tugged on a nerve inside of him. "We are so much alike, Dorian," he said with a sad smile.

Once Dorian would have been overjoyed to hear that, but now he only felt empty and raw. "We are nothing alike, and I don't know that I _can_ forgive you," he said. "But since I'm not a complete savage, I _will_ wish you safe travel back to the Imperium. Send my regards to mother, assuming she's not busy redecorating the house again?" He stared at his father for a moment and then turned away to leave.

"Dorian!" Halward called, but Dorian kept going until he was out the door. Theo was calling after him, but he kept going and did not stop until the edge of the lake stopped him. He leaned against the weathered wall of a fishing hut to catch his breath. He squeezed his eyes closed so tightly he could see stars, and willed the hot tears not to fall. "_Fasta Vass,_" he swore, slamming his fist against the wall.

"Dorian… are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and blinked quickly to clear the film of tears. Theo stood before him, alone, having somehow eluded the watch of the Iron Bull. His hands were jammed into his pockets and a lock of dark brown hair fell into his green eyes. He was biting on his lip and standing back a few paces, digging the toe of his boot into the dirt.

Dorian straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Of course I'm alright. I just had a lovely conversation with my father. Why wouldn't I be alright?"

Theo sighed and shuffled a step closer, gazing up from under his eyelashes to see if Dorian would react. Dorian realized that he was backed up against a wall with Theo advancing, still biting his lip. "At least you talked with him," Theo said quietly. "You got the last word."

"Or something like it." He looked away from Theo. "At least he didn't try to force me to return home."

"You're an adult, Dorian. Besides, I don't think anyone could force you to do anything you didn't truly want to do." Theo was closer now and Dorian's innards twisted. He'd wondered about Theo ever since they'd stopped Alexius. The Inquisitor always seemed to be curious about Tevinter, and the more Dorian teased him and flirted with him, the more Theo rose to the occasion. He enjoyed it; but he couldn't hope; only fools hoped, and Dorian was no fool.

Dorian sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Living a lie… it festers inside of you. You have to fight for who you are," he said at last, looking up at Theo. "I'm not accustomed to such honesty, particularly from someone in such a position of power as yourself." Dorian shook his head and looked away. He gave a harsh laugh. "Maker knows what you must think of me after that display."

Theo's green eyes were wide. "After that, I can't possibly think _less_ of you… _more_ if possible."

That voice. The earnest sincerity. The boy couldn't lie if his life depended on it, nor could he be any more obvious, and Dorian wanted nothing more than to hold him. Somehow Theo was inching nearer, closing the gap between them. "The things you say," Dorian said instead, looking away. He couldn't meet his gaze, couldn't let Theo stare into him and see him so undone.

"I mean it," Theo said. Then his hand was on the back of Dorian's neck, his thumb lightly caressing his jaw. Dorian's breath hissed in through his nostrils; Theo's touch made his chest tighten with longing to feel more, elsewhere. Theo hesitated once, but when Dorian didn't move away, Theo continued. Then Theo's forehead was pressed to his. His breath was on Dorian's face. It took everything Dorian had not to tremble. No. He was Dorian Pavus, he was in control.

He was Dorian Pavus and he was backed against a wall with Theo Trevelyan's thumb caressing his cheek and making it hard to breathe.

And then Theo's lips brushed his, so gentle, so delicate it could hardly be called a kiss, but it still left Dorian's lips tingling. "_Fasta Vass,_ Theo, what are we doing?" he asked, not moving, not daring to open his eyes, afraid that it was a dream-or worse, a desire demon preying on him.

Theo's other hand was on his hip now and Dorian swore he could feel it even through his layers of clothing and leather. And then _he_ was reaching for Theo, tangling his fingers in that tousled chestnut hair and he was kissing him back. Theo was all warmth and light and sweetness. Theo never stopped touching him and it was such a caring, gentle touch—so different from the needy passion Dorian had grown accustomed to from lovers; or the perfunctory kisses and groping he paid for in a whorehouse.

He slipped his other arm around Theo's waist and pulled him closer, then Theo was bracing himself on the wall with one hand while the other still caressed Dorian's face so tenderly. Dorian gave in and relaxed, let himself feel the warmth of Theo's long, strong archer's fingers.

"Whatever we're doing, I like it," Theo whispered. The feeling of his breath on his lips made Dorian shudder.

"That's good. Because…I rather do too," Dorian said, and Theo brushed his lips once more: the teasing, tingling non-kiss sweep of his mouth that left Dorian wanting more. More warmth, more tingling, more touching, more Theo Trevelyan.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note 2: <em>Thank you so very much for the positive feedback on the pacing and their friendship and budding relationship last chapter! I appreciated hearing it so much. As always, thank you to those of you following and favoriting! Many special thanks to karebear, mille libri, Quietsan, Adhara Elric, Melysande, deagh, Nithu, abbiebubble, AgapeErosPhilia, and guests for the reviews and the encouragement and support! I appreciate it so much. As for pacing, they may have started something, but there's still along way to go for the both of them! Thanks again!_  
><em>


	11. Dealings Before Feelings

_Chapter 11: Dealings Before Feelings_

Theo could only assume he hadn't been thinking, or that he'd been momentarily possessed. He kept remembering the moment: Dorian's cheek, hot under his hand; Dorian's lip trembling with restrained emotion; Dorian's eyes, glassy with tears that caught in his long lashes. That moment of fear when Dorian hesitated, and the warm waves of overwhelming relief when he kissed back.

Theo was playing with fire, but like the proverbial moth, he couldn't stay away from the bright flame that was Dorian.

It would take two days to make it to Crestwood. The first night Theo managed to arrange his watch to overlap with Dorian's. The mage sat on a flat rock, hugging one knee to his chest while the other leg remained outstretched. A small globe of white light hovered over his shoulder, casting shadows on the planes of his face. Theo's heart skipped once. "Hi," he said, suddenly shy.

Dorian turned to face him and a smile. "Ah, Theodane," he said, and sounded relaxed, which helped ease the tension Theo felt all throughout his body. He chuckled. "One of the first things you told me was that you weren't very good with women. That should have been my cue."

"Even back then?" Theo asked. His cheeks hurt from trying not to smile.

"Even back then," Dorian confirmed. "You do know your watch doesn't begin for some time yet."

"I know. I just wanted…" What _did_ he want? He stared at the ground, aware of Dorian's eyes on him even in the dim magelight.

"A repeat of the afternoon?" Dorian asked softly. He slid off the rock and stood a few paces from Theo.

Theo rubbed his neck. "If I said yes?" he asked.

Dorian's smile spread. "Then I might be inclined to agree with you," he said. "But… that's not entirely the reason you're here, I take it," he said.

Theo was going to have to ask the Iron Bull how to keep his face expressionless. As much as he loved that Dorian could see into him, it was unsettling at times. "I'm glad you liked it," he said. "And I wanted to apologize in case it… well, wasn't what you wanted." He was grateful for the darkness because his face was probably a deep crimson shade. He didn't want to be having this conversation. Even though it was the right thing to do, he felt like vomiting.

Dorian was thoughtful for a long moment, which made Theo even more nervous. "You need not apologize," he said at last. "I confess if you hadn't kissed me then, I'd probably be kissing you sooner or later. Most likely sooner. Probably this evening, right up against this rock," he said so calmly, like it was just the most natural fact in the world. When Theo didn't move, Dorian's smile spread. "That was an invitation," he prompted.

The motions that had come naturally hours ago now felt strange to Theo, but this time Dorian took the lead. He was able to do things with his mouth that Theo didn't know were possible. It made him shiver and feel a stirring in his breeches that he'd long ignored. He kissed back eagerly, trying to imitate Dorian, but the moves that came so easily to the mage felt awkward to Theo and he pulled back, blushing. "Sorry, I got a bit excited," he breathed, staring at the ground, at the trees, the dark and starlit sky… anywhere but Dorian.

Dorian trailed a hand over his shoulder and down his arm and Theo shuddered again. "If you're going to keep apologizing, it may be worth rethinking if this is something you want to happen," he said, but his voice was even and lacked any hint of teasing.

Theo pushed away his giddiness and made himself stare at Dorian, into his eyes which saw so much. "I do want it," he said with a nod. "More than anything."

"More than stopping Corypheus?" Dorian asked, again with no teasing. Theo didn't answer. "I ask you the hard questions now, so we can determine what this is and where it will go. There is too much on the line for you to risk being distracted by something you don't want."

"You're not a distraction to me, Dorian," Theo said. The rock behind him was cold and unyielding, and Dorian was in front of him, his hands splayed on the rock on either side of Theo's shoulders. He was trapped. "I can talk to you. You make me laugh. You treat me like a normal person and not some religious symbol."

Dorian sighed and looked down. "That's where things become problematic for us," he said, shaking his head. "The religious symbol bit. You do recall your Chantry history, yes? The fact it was the Imperium that was responsible for Andraste's execution?" Theo nodded, confused. Dorian's smile was ironic. "You are also aware I'm Tevinter?" Theo nodded once more. "It won't go over well initially."

Theo sighed and rested his hands on Dorian's hips. Maker, it felt good to touch him, even at arms' length. "Well… too bad. I'm the Inquisitor, and if I want to be with a Tevinter, I will," he said with a shrug and a smile that he didn't really feel.

"They'll talk, is all I'm saying; and while you say you do not care what they think of you, I do. The Inquisition is in its early stages, and you have a great deal to accomplish. You cannot be undermined, and I don't want to be the one to undermine you."

"Are you saying that you _don't_ want this?" Theo asked, voice trembling.

Dorian's hands drifted to his arms. His touch was firm and certain. "I also want it more than anything. But I think right now discretion is prudent. I would not deny myself, nor deny you; but there is something larger than our desires at stake that must be considered."

Theo nodded. He didn't like it, but Dorian made sense. He was older and more experienced in these matters, and Theo knew that he needed to take it to heart. "I'll do my best," he said finally, with a slight sigh.

Dorian smiled and relaxed; he too had been nervous about this talk, which made Theo feel relieved that he was not alone in this. "I'll leave you to your watch." He leaned in and kissed Theo lightly before heading toward his tent. He cast a glance back at Theo over his shoulder. He was still smiling.

The next night the watches were the same. Bull never said anything, just accepted his turn and went to sleep. Theo had to pinch himself a few times when he joined Dorian on the darkened edge of camp. It was still surreal to feel Dorian's touch; to see him so close he could see the tiniest flecks of gold in his eyes; or to rest his head on Dorian's shoulder and inhale his sweet and slightly spicy scent. He closed his eyes and in his mind this was what Tevinter smelled like.

"Back to reality," Dorian said softly, resting a hand on Theo's knee. "If I'm gone too long he'll notice."

"He's sleeping," Theo said, eyes still closed, still pretending.

"I believe Bull sleeps with one eye open," Dorian said.

"He only _has_ one eye."

Dorian chuckled. "Please, give this time. I would be lying if I said I wasn't pleased by this, but I'd also like to be discreet for your benefit. You are still young in your role as the Inquisitor, and that must come first." He squeezed Theo's knee lightly and stood. "Have a good watch," he said with a smile, and then bent down and kissed Theo on the cheek. His mustache tickled.

Theo smiled, even though he wished Dorian would stay. "Sleep well," he called after him, then turned to watch the perimeter of their camp so he wouldn't have to watch Dorian walk away.

When they finally did get to Crestwood in the middle of a cold autumn downpour, there was plenty to be done and it kept his mind off of having to pretend nothing was happening with Dorian. The Chargers had captured Fort Bronach and raised the Inquisition's flag. Other Inquisition soldiers had poured in to help clear out the bandits taking advantage of Ferelden's current state of chaos. The mayor of the village of New Crestwood had vanished, and there was a massive Fade rift in the middle of the lake that they couldn't reach.

"Harding's working on tracking down the mayor," Krem briefed them. "I don't know that you want to take a boat out to tackle that rift, though. Every time we go near the water the dead come out. Spooks the men something bad," he said, and from the way he shuddered it was clear he was among those spooked. "Varric and Hawke went out two nights ago, but haven't come back yet. I can send out a scout if you want," he said to Theo.

"I think they'll be fine," Theo said. "Hawke looks like she can take care of herself, and Varric could talk his way out of anything. Besides, he's got Bianca. If they're not back by noon tomorrow we'll head out." Krem nodded, and out of the corner of his eye, Theo saw Bull nod as well and felt oddly pleased. Josephine's earliest advice to him had been to delegate tasks; this was too large an operation for him to tackle by himself.

He leaned against the battlements and stared out through the rain and into the lake. The Fade rift wavered over the water and the rain distorted the green light it emitted. His gaze swept over the horizon and paused on a structure built upon a jetty. He squinted. "Krem, did any of the townspeople say what that place is?"

Krem joined him. "There used to be a tavern there before the dam was built."

Theo straightened up, interested. "I'm going to check it out."

"I'm going with you," Bull said.

"I wouldn't have dreamed of leaving you behind," Theo said with a grin. "Dorian?" he asked, and something about saying the mage's name now, after what was transpiring between them, made his heart flutter. "It's likely we'll face some undead," he said. "Would you join us?"

Dorian couldn't have missed the stiff formality in Theo's voice, but he made no indication that anything was amiss. "Gladly. It will give me the opportunity to prove that Necromancy is a respectable school of magic." His hair was plastered down by the rain, but he maintained a haughty expression.

Krem joined them and briefed Bull some more as they headed to the old tavern. It was good to be out of the rain; but the inside smelled musty and dank, and it wasn't much warmer. Theo scouted about and found the dam controls in room behind the bar. The pump controls were stuck in place, and it took Bull and Krem a good amount of pushing and swearing before they could get it to budge. Theo helped as he could, and Dorian looked on, amused.

"It's going to take some time for the reservoir to empty," Bull said, leaning against a wall. "I'm all for sleeping here while we wait, and tackling the Fade rift in the morning."

Krem was already unbuckling his breastplate. Theo was soaked, but the walk back to the fort wasn't going to help that, and besides, they'd have to come back here in the morning in the rain as well. Dorian, however, didn't seem happy. "What, with no blankets? No fire?" he asked. He looked almost terrified.

Bull shrugged. "You're a mage, you make fire."

"_Vishante kaffas,_ you are impossible," Dorian snapped. But he did fling his hand out toward the hearth, and a fire erupted. "Are you happy?" he asked with a disdainful sneer at Bull before he went off to sulk in the corner.

Theo followed. "Thanks for the fire," he said.

Dorian nodded. "Of course. I'll be interested to see what you think when you see my true talent." He smiled, but looked almost nervous. "Necromancy is a delicate art, and yet it was something I took to early on."

Theo sat down on the dusty wooden floor. "Could you tell me about it?" he asked. "I don't understand magic, but it's fascinating."

Dorian's lips curved into a teasing grin. "Are you sure it's the magic that's fascinating and not me?" he asked in a low voice.

"Both," Theo said, returning the grin. He leaned against a wall and listened as Dorian explained the basics of his Necromancy, and tried to explain what he felt when casting a spell. "It's sort of how I feel when I shoot," Theo mused. "The bow just fits into my hand like an extension of my arm. I draw and just feel it as part of me. When my arm was broken, I was afraid," he said without looking at Dorian. "I've been shooting for as long as I can remember, maybe longer. I don't know what it is not to hold a bow. I make my own arrows, too," he said, and suddenly felt almost embarrassed at the way he was going on.

"Could you show me?" Dorian asked, genuinely curious. "I made my staff. I appreciate craftsmanship and fine things," he said with a meaningful look at Theo.

Theo felt a flutter of pride and removed an arrow from his quiver. Dorian took it from him, his fingertips brushing over Theo's hand. He held it between two fingers and examined it. "This is lovely," he said at last. "Hard to believe such a piece of work can be so deadly."

"I could say the same of your magic," Theo said.

"Hey Boss!" the Bull called from the other side of the room, and Theo's head snapped up. He blushed furiously; he'd been so engrossed in conversing with Dorian that he'd almost forgotten about Bull and Krem. "The door bars from the inside, and I'm fucking tired as balls, so I'd like to make an executive Ben-Hassrath decision that we don't need a watch tonight," he said with a loud yawn.

Theo laughed. "I'll take your expert opinion," he said. He got up and looked around the old tavern. Sadly all of the alcohol was gone, but he did find some burlap sacks. He hefted up a pile and brought them over to Bull. "It's not a fluffy Orlesian pillow, but it might work," he said with a grin.

Bull took them from Theo. "Did you find those out behind the bar?" he asked, and Theo nodded. "Krem, can you go get some of these too?" he asked. Krem opened his mouth with a retort, but there must have been something on the Bull's face that made him think better of it, and he left them alone. "Boss," Bull began, voice low, and Theo's stomach dropped into his feet. "I've seen the way you and Dorian are looking at each other," he began. "And I've got nothing against it, even if he is Tevinter; you're an adult and can make that choice. But as someone who's been in the trenches with this sort of thing, just remember to keep your dealings above your feelings," he said.

Theo swallowed and his cheeks burned. When he dared look up, the Bull's face was kind and he was smiling; his one eye looked deep into Theo. "Thank you, Bull," Theo finally managed to say. "Your expertise—and your honesty are helpful."

"Just don't want to see you get hurt, Boss. You've got a long road ahead that's going to be tough enough."

Theo nodded. That much was true. But something else stuck in his mind. "Bull… I think you're the first person who's called me an adult." Bull cocked his head to the side and Theo sighed. "I haven't been treated as one until very recently, so it takes some getting used to."

The Bull shook his head. "See, that's crap," he said. "Under the Qun, you are or you aren't. You're a warrior or you're not, you're Ben-Hassrath or you're not. You're an adult, or you're not. You came of age, so you're an adult."

Theo rubbed the back of his neck. "You make it sound so easy," he said. "I'm the youngest of six, and the third son at that; so my parents never really treated me as much of anything. I'm having to figure out what it is to be an adult at the same time as I'm figuring out what it means to be an Inquisitor," he said with an embarrassed smile.

"Growth is a process, and it doesn't happen alone. Even in the Qun we have Tamassrans who guide us," the Bull said. "You're a good guy, Boss, and you've got good people around you to help."

"I'm very fortunate. Thanks, Bull," Theo said, truly grateful.

By then Krem had reappeared with another pile of sacks. He flashed a glance at Bull, who nodded once. "Thanks, Krem," he said more loudly. "I'm getting some sleep. Rest well, Boss."

By then Dorian's fire had begun to die down. Theo wasn't sure where to go. He knew that Bull was watching him now, and that meant Krem probably kept an eye on him too. The thought of Iron Bull writing reports to the Ben-Hassrath about his budding romance made him feel a bit odd, but they all had jobs to do, he supposed.

He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled dark hair before walking back to where Dorian was sitting, deep in thought. But he looked up and smiled when Theo offered him a couple of burlap sacks to use as a pillow. "Unless you wanted to use me," he said in a low voice.

Dorian sighed, but he was smiling. "Not that I wouldn't love to, believe me. But we have a Ben-Hassrath spy across the room," he teased.

Theo shrugged. Dorian was right, but he could still be disappointed. "Hey, I can dream," he said, and curled up before the hearth.

* * *

><p>In the morning the sound of rain still pounded on the roof and Theo had a stiff neck. He grimaced and looked around. "Mage boy's outside," Krem said from across the room. He was busy strapping on his armor. "The lake's drained enough and he's taking a look at the undead situation. Freaky as shit, it is, but he seems okay with it, so I'm not going to complain."<p>

Theo nodded his thanks and stretched. He'd slept in his leather armor and felt stiff all over, but he slung his quiver at his side and his bow over his shoulder, and headed out into the rain. He paused to watch Dorian, standing at the edge of what was once the lake, practically dancing with his magic. The corpses, submerged for over a decade, pulled themselves from the mud and shambled toward Dorian, draped in tattered skin and scraps of clothing. As Theo watched it seemed as if Dorian commanded deep purple-black shadows that rolled over the shambling undead. Those touched by the shadow either fell over motionless, or else caused the corpse to turn on the others. Those the shadow did not affect felt the power of Dorian's primal spells: fireballs and lightning bolts flashed through the rain.

Theo nocked an arrow, took aim, and let it fly into the eye socket of a corpse. If Dorian noticed, he did not break concentration. Theo nocked another arrow and soon he was fighting alongside Dorian in companionable silence. Finally Dorian paused. "There are too many," he said. "If I go into the Fade and attack the issue from that side, we may stand a chance. Would you be so kind as to keep me covered?" he asked with a smile.

"You know I can't say no," Theo said, already firing another volley at the shambling army coming their way. Less than a week and already he couldn't deny Dorian. He kept firing as Dorian went quiet behind him. He trusted his hunter's senses to keep him aware of his surroundings, and was able to move out of the way when Bull burst into the fray, wielding a massive maul. Krem joined with sword and shield and took out what undead made it past the Bull.

Dorian's hand was on Theo's shoulder, and he fired a stray arrow. He rarely ever did that. "What's wrong?" he asked. His eyes widened when he saw Dorian's pallor.

"You'll have to close that rift if we hope to make it out of this intact," Dorian said. He fought to maintain the smoothness of his voice, but Theo could hear the tremble of exhaustion. "The demons coming through the rift are stirring the dead."

"You heard him," Theo said to Bull and Krem. "It's probably not too deep out there anymore. And we're soaked through anyway, so let's go." The last time he'd felt this determined, this ready, had been the day he closed the Breach itself. It seemed so long ago, and already he was a different person; then he'd been the unwanted child struggling to be someone, and now he was the Inquisitor. This was what he'd been made to do.

He waded closer to the Fade rift and his palm tingled. He focused on the wall of wavering light in the air in front of him and held up his hand, initiating the magical connection between his mark and the rift.

This was far easier than closing the Breach, but the location provided its own unique challenges. Krem found it hard to keep his footing in the squishy lake bottom mud. The water only came to the Bull's knees, but it was still enough to slow him down. Theo's own feet were sinking and when he tried to pull them out of the mud his feet stuck. He'd worry later. He thought of all those corpses denied rest and proper burial, and forced to reanimate and haunt the living, all because this rift had opened up over their watery grave.

They deserved rest; their families deserved peace. He focused on the line of power between his hand and the rift with everything inside of him. The buzzing of the rift grew to a cacophony in his head, and just when he thought his skull might split open, the rift exploded in a flash of bright light and was gone. The corpses that had been coming toward them stopped and collapsed. Theo swayed and fell backward on his arse in the water.

"You alright, Boss?" Bull asked, helping him up.

Theo looked down at his soaked and muddy clothing. "I will be. I think I really just want some dry clothes, a bath, and a hot meal. Not necessarily in that order," he said, and they headed back to Fort Bronach.

Varric and Hawke met them there a few hours later—past the noon deadline Theo had set, but not by much. With them was a man who had to be Stroud. He looked gaunt and hungrily accepted the stew he was offered. He was dressed in a faded Grey Warden uniform, but the most striking feature about him was his long mustache. Theo watched it in fascination when he spoke with his thick Orlesian accent about all he'd seen happen to the Warden Order of late.

"Mine's better," Dorian murmured in passing, and Theo had to stifle a laugh as Stroud spoke of serious matters.

"When Hawke first slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was content to put it to rest," he said. "But it wasn't long after that the Wardens began to hear their calling."

"I've been to Weisshaupt once before," Dorian said, which surprised Theo; he would not have pegged Dorian as a prospective Grey Warden. Then again, the man was full of surprises, and he loved learning all of them. "It was so dull and serious, one could hardly piss straight."

"Stop being a bad influence," Theo muttered, nudging him in the side.

"The Wardens are scared and aren't thinking clearly," Hawke said, before Stroud could fire back any retort to Dorian. "And now these Venatori are taking advantage of it."

"Of course they are," Dorian said. "A force of desperate, frightened Grey Wardens with nothing to lose? That's power. The Venatori deal in power at any cost. Do you know where they were headed next?"

Stroud sopped up the last of his stew with a hunk of bread. "I believe they may have been headed for the Western Approach. It is a Maker-forsaken place," he said, shaking his head. "Some of the correspondence suggested they were following the Venatori there."

"The Western Approach is the ass-end of Thedas," Varric said, glancing up from cleaning Bianca. "If they want to make this harder for us, they're succeeding."

Theo nodded. "I'll send the information on to Leliana and Cullen via raven, and they'll probably want to meet when we get back to Skyhold. I suppose we hear what they have to say, and then get ready to head to the Western Approach." He grinned. "I always did want to see the world."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Many thanks to deagh, abbiebubble, Bathorybabe, dr. kitten, mille libri, and Nithu, and all future reviewers; and to AgapeErosPhilia and Adhara Elric for the excellent conversations about DA and writing! Thanks so much to all who have favorited and/or placed this story on alert. I am so enjoying writing this, and thank you all for the continued encouragement!

PS, Go read "A Hopeful Kind of Sad" by AgapeErosPhilia. It's a great look at life in Clan Lavellan thus far!


	12. Undue Influence

_Chapter 12: Undue Influence_

The rains began to let up as they left Crestwood; Harding promised to send a raven to Skyhold when they found the mayor, who, as it turned out, had left a letter confessing to flooding and destroying Old Crestwood during the Blight. The flood had formed the lake and dozens of people had drowned because of his actions. "Looks like you'll have another criminal to judge, Inquisitor," Harding said. She was usually cheerful, but this made her sound grim. "Safe journey to you all," she added, though she looked right at Krem when she said it.

Stroud joined them as they rode back to Skyhold, and again Theo found himself looking for any time he could to be alone with Dorian. He tried to be formal and distant when others were around, but it was frustrating when all he wanted was to fling himself at Dorian, or even just relax with their arms around each other before the fire. Dorian, however, caught and held Theo's eye, and smiled surreptitiously whenever he could. It was something.

But then there were the times the watch overlapped and they had a few stolen moments. They were never long enough, but the feel of Dorian's lips on his, and Dorian's body in his arms made it worth it. Discretion. Theo only had to hold out long enough to build up his reputation and they could be as open as they wanted.

He hoped.

Finally they began the trek up the mountain road that led to Skyhold; Theo felt his chest constrict with a nervous sort of excitement. He was coming _home_ after a mission. His horse sensed his jitters and pranced up the road a few paces and shook its head, annoyed, when Theo tried to rein it in. He didn't feel like getting a lecture from Master Dennett about pushing the horses too hard.

He rode at the head of the line and nodded for Dorian to come join him. When Dorian subtly shook his head Theo had to resist the urge to hang back and ride with him. He was the Inquisitor, returning from his first mission. He had to do what was good for the people right now. So he kept his head up and shoulders back, and trotted across the bridge and through the open portcullis into the courtyard.

Horns signaled their arrival and suddenly the courtyard was a flurry of activity. He didn't remember this many people being here when he'd left, and he wondered just what sorts of things were being said about him and the Inquisition to bring in so many people. But it didn't matter. _I'm home,_ he thought, trying out the word in his mind as he looked around with a huge smile on his face.

"Welcome home, Your Worship," a stable hand said, holding the reins so Theo could dismount. He looked around. The stables had been repaired, and the outer walls were looking sturdier. A makeshift tent hospital had been set up nearby and healers were tending to the injured who'd returned from scouting missions.

"Inquisitor," Cassandra said, walking up to meet Theo. She clasped his hand, but then surprised him with a rough one-armed hug. "It is good to see you well. The ravens have been arriving, and we were eagerly awaiting your return."

"It's good to see you as well, Cassandra," Theo said, and it truly was. The Seeker was still shrewd and observant, but seemed far more relaxed now that they'd settled in. "I'm sure Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen want to see me," he said, rolling his eyes, but he smiled. "No rest for the weary."

"There is much to discuss. I've also sent word out to the Seekers, but the order has been silent and it is most distressing." She started for the stone stairs to the entry, but Theo was waiting on Dorian.

"Go on without me," Dorian said to Theo. "I feel the need to get reacquainted with the bath and my bed," he said with a smile. Theo wanted to at least hug him, but all eyes were on him and Cassandra was not used to being kept waiting.

Theo held eye contact just a moment longer and offered a slight smile before following Cassandra. Mother Giselle was coming down the stairs as they ascended and she smiled in greeting until her eyes swept past Theo and down to the courtyard to see Dorian handing off his horse. "Problem, Mother Giselle?" Theo asked, unable to keep the chill from his voice. "I'd think you'd thank the Maker that the Herald returned with his friends intact."

"Yes. I am pleased that you have returned safely," Mother Giselle said, recovering quickly. "May the Maker watch over you," she said, and continued on her way.

Cassandra looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. Theo shook his head. "She doesn't like that Dorian's from Tevinter," he said after a moment of thought. He let her lead the way to the war room. Progress was being made on the inside as well: there were no more piles of rubble littering the great hall, and new Orlesian silk carpets ran the length of the hall. It was a nice touch. Josephine's office was stocked with books on diplomacy, and a shelf was dedicated to inkpots and quills alone. Her little fireplace had a fire going with two stuffed chairs set up before it. All in all it was a cozy place for her to meet with diplomats and dignitaries.

"Inquisitor, welcome back," Josephine said as he entered the war room with Cassandra by his side. "I think you'll find much has been accomplished in your absence."

"I'm already starting to see that," he said. "It's amazing what's happened here."

"We're sending scouts out to the Western Approach, but also hearing of Venatori activity in the Exalted Plains," Leliana said. "We will wish to establish a presence there soon."

"I've been delving into the red templars a bit as well," Cullen said. His voice sounded harsher than usual and he needed a shave. He didn't look well, but Theo assumed it was the long days plotting troop movements and training recruits for what would possibly be the largest army in all of Thedas. Theo shivered involuntarily at the thought.

"And we are learning more about the civil war in Orlais," Josephine told him. "It appears the two major players are not opposed to having peace talks, but they _do_ appear to be opposed to ceasing the fighting," she said grimly. "I am continuing talks with some of the lesser nobles to increase our influence in the Empire. If we are to save the Empress we must be able to get near her first."

"All true," Theo said. "When did the scouts head west?"

"Yesterday," Leliana said. "I sent the fastest we currently have available, along with several ravens. Though it is tempting to rush after them, I feel I must advise caution in the pursuit. An intelligent enemy is dangerous," she said.

"And we will also need to turn attentions to the missing Seekers," Cassandra said softly. "If we could have the order on our side it would be a great benefit, though I do not know if Lord Seeker Lucius will ever see reason."

"We'll find them, Cassandra," Cullen said gently. "I called for a small contingent of forces to do some recon east of the Hinterlands."

Theo listened with interest as the conversation went on around him. Being surrounded by such competent people, the best in their fields, could easily have been intimidating; at first he had been scared of them. But the more they talked easily amongst themselves, pausing to glance up and ask what he thought every so often, the more grateful he was to have them. Maker knew he'd be completely lost, and probably dead, without them.

Josephine sent a page to have dinner brought in for them as they continued talking strategy. Theo did his best to be interested and to give his opinions, but after awhile he just listened and nodded occasionally. Talk turned to the Skyhold renovations; Cullen excused himself, which Theo thought wise. He looked far too pale and drawn and could use some rest. Cassandra accompanied him out; she touched his arm, but he jerked it away.

"I suppose that puts an end to our talks for the evening," Leliana said, standing and adjusting her hood over her red hair. "I will be in the rookery if you need me," she said.

"You should rest, Leliana," Josephine said. "Besides, if you spend too much time with those ravens, you'll start to sound like one," she teased. "Which reminds me, Solas complained that he continues to find bird droppings in his study." But she was smiling and trying not to laugh, and even Leliana cracked a smile before taking her leave.

"You too, Inquisitor," Josephine admonished, waving her quill at Theo. "There is much to do and you need to be in good form."

"I do believe you need to take your own advice, Lady Montilyet," Theo said, grabbing the end of her quill and pulling it out of her hand. She gasped and pouted, and he laughed. As a hunter he'd had to hone quick reflexes. "I was crashing in whatever hallway or room I could find before I went to Crestwood," he said. "Should I just find another floor?"

Josephine's face lit up even more, if that was possible. "Oh, that was one of the first things we fixed after you left." She led him back to the great hall and pointed out the last door on the left. "Your private quarters, Inquisitor."

Theo suddenly felt trepidation, which was silly; Skyhold was his home, so why shouldn't he have a room? But _this_ room… The private stairwell opened up into a room with high ceilings that almost dwarfed everything else in the room. He had private balconies with a view of the mountains, which were looking blue in the gathering dark. He had a huge desk, a set of bookshelves, a fireplace with a roaring fire already built in it, an overstuffed Orlesian sofa, and a massive bed.

He didn't care that he was nearly twenty-four years old, or that Josephine, his diplomacy advisor, was watching. He ran for the bed and did a dive onto the piles of blankets and pillows, and the feather bed sank under him. "Maker's balls this is the most amazing bed I've ever been in," he said, rolling over and staring up at the ceiling, so high that the rafters were lost in shadow. He picked his head up and looked at Josephine. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself," he said with a grin.

She shook her head, but she was smiling too. "I'll take this as my cue to depart. Goodnight, Inquisitor."

* * *

><p>Theo had never slept so well in his life, including before the Inquisition. He woke embarrassingly late in the morning, but he felt refreshed for the first time in a long while, and even more so after a servant drew him a hot bath. It occurred to him as he dressed in new, comfortable clothing that this was the first morning in nearly two months that he could take his time and do whatever he wanted.<p>

He wanted to find Dorian.

Theo headed out into the great hall, unprepared for gasps and the rustling of dresses and clanking of armor as people bowed at his appearance. Theo blushed and waved, but it was with his left hand and the green light shone out over the people. _Shit,_ he thought, even as he kept smiling the way Josephine had taught him. He clenched his hand and nodded and greeted people as he passed, thanking them for their presence and support…

…and all he wanted was to go to the library.

"I'm on a mission now, please see my advisors," he said apologetically to a woman trying to convince him to invest in her store. "Lady Montilyet will assist you," he added and knew that he would get it badly from Josephine later on.

It was hard not to laugh when he passed through Solas's atrium study and he remembered that the ravens tended to leave droppings. He did glance upward nervously when a raven cawed overhead, but made it through unscathed.

Loud voices made him pause in the stairwell. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but it was a habit he'd picked up as a child in Ostwick. If he blended in, moved quietly as the shadows, and if no one knew he was there, they wouldn't hesitate with what they had to say. It was how he'd learned he was destined for the Chantry; it was how he learned that Gavriel was so sick…. And many other things he probably should not have learned.

Theo crept up another step and hugged the wall. "Just what do you think you are doing?" It was Mother Giselle. Theo held his breath.

"Apparently I'm being pecked to death by a mother hen," Dorian snapped. Theo could picture him standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest and the slightest curving sneer touching his lips.

"Do _not_ play the fool with me young man," Mother Giselle snapped. Theo had never heard her speak harshly to anyone before; even when he'd first met her, tending the wounded in the Hinterlands after days of little sleep and harsh conditions, she'd been serene and caring.

"Oh, if I wanted to play the fool I assure you I'd try much harder than this," Dorian fired back.

She made a disgusted noise. "Your glib tongue does you no credit," she said.

Dorian paused briefly, and in that split second Theo almost felt bad for Mother Giselle. "You'd be surprised at the credit my tongue does get me," Dorian nearly purred, and Theo had to stifle a laugh, even as his heart flipped in his chest, because he'd definitely given some credit to that tongue.

Theo made his way to the top of the stairs. "Good morning," he said. "Dorian. Mother Giselle," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Something going on? I heard your voices as I was heading upstairs."

Mother Giselle opened her mouth to speak, but Dorian was quicker. "It appears your Revered Mother is concerned about my… what was it? _Undue influence_ over you," Dorian said, his voice dripping with acid. "Again, with the Tevinter thing. You'd think it would get old, but it never does."

"Your Worship, you must know how this looks! Corypheus is of Tevinter, as is this young man. His presence at the side of the Herald of Andraste has been cause for rumor."

Theo felt himself go colder than he'd been on that mountainside. "I can think for myself, thank you. And rumors?" he asked, keeping himself as calm as possible, but he remembered what Dorian had said about people talking. He thought he wouldn't have cared, but now that they were…He glanced at Dorian, who was tense as a drawn bowstring and could snap any moment. And was that worry Theo saw in his gray eyes? Theo took a deep breath. "I'm the Herald of Andraste so long as I do and say exactly what you think I should," he told her. "Isn't that true?" She was silent. "Yes, Corypheus is of Tevinter, as are the Venatori. Dorian came to us of his own free will, offering to help put an end to both."

Mother Giselle had the grace to look abashed, and bowed her head. "I only meant to ask his intentions."

"Only when your plan to get him to go back to Tevinter failed," Theo said, and she seemed to shrink into herself. "I met his father. Dorian told me what he tried to do to him. Your bias against Tevinter placed us both in a dangerous and hurtful situation."

Mother Giselle straightened up. She clenched her jaw, but when she saw the determined gleam in Theo's eyes and the defiant expression on his face, she sighed. "You are the Herald of Andraste. If you feel his intentions are without harm, then I ask forgiveness of you both." She waited a moment, but when Theo said nothing she sighed and headed down the stairs.

Theo leaned over the railing to watch her shadow as she exited the atrium, headed for the gardens. She was probably going to find a chapel to pray in.

"I am capable of fighting my own battles, you know," Dorian said, gray eyes narrowed, but he leaned against the bookshelves and ran his hand through his wavy dark hair.

"She made me her pawn. I didn't like it," Theo said simply. He rested his hand on Dorian's arm. Dorian stiffened instinctively, but relaxed. Theo wondered when, or if it would ever stop, if the mage could just be comfortable around him. Then again, they were in the middle of the library, telling off a Revered Mother: hardly the epitome of discretion. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" Theo asked.

"Somewhere where a hundred onlookers won't accuse me of using my nefarious Tevinter powers to steal your soul?" Dorian asked with a grin.

"Oh, that happened a long time ago," Theo said and gave him a quick peck on the cheek when he was sure no one was looking. Discretion. Minimizing rumors. Maker, all he wanted was to spend time with someone who finally saw him for who he really was: not a religious symbol, not a potential spare, not a nobody destined for the Chantry; and moreover, somebody who appreciated him and cared for him in return. Was that so much to ask?

They ended up in Dorian's room, though only after making sure no one was watching. Theo hated the sneaking about, but after the confrontation in the library he had to admit Dorian's suggestion of discretion was a good one. If Mother Giselle was willing to chastise Dorian when she thought they were only friends, what would she do if she found out it was quickly becoming more?

Dorian wove privacy webs and silencing spells again, the way he did the first night Theo had talked to him in Redcliffe, and just like that night Theo watched him with fascination. When Dorian was satisfied that the room was safe, he flopped on his bed with a sigh. He gestured for Theo to join him.

Theo's stomach clenched, but he remembered this was one thing he'd been most longing for in the days since they'd first kissed. He lay down next to Dorian, who wrapped one arm around him. Theo closed his eyes and smelled that mix of vanilla and cinnamon, so different from what he would have thought; he felt Dorian's warmth seeping into his cheek. He'd slept well the night before, but he could fall asleep all over again. "Is my influence over you undue?" Dorian asked, and he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Only in a good way," Theo said, adjusting himself to rest his head on Dorian's shoulder and draping an arm over the mage's torso. Dorian took his hand and played with his fingers, which tickled. Theo hoped no one was going to look for him, because today he did not want to be found.

* * *

><p><em>Author's<em> _Note: _So many thanks for all the new follows and alerts this story's received recently! And many more thanks to FenZev, dr. kitten, abbiebubble, mille libri, olivebg, Bathorybabe, AgapeErosPhilia, and CapitalEnvy for the reviews. I appreciate it so very much. I began this story because I felt like I couldn't NOT write it, and I am pleased that so many are enjoying it :) Thank you is never enough, but it's all I have :)_  
><em>


	13. Distance

_Chapter 13: Distance_

"Close the door," Cullen said, but his tone was tired and defeated, so Theo did as he was asked.

"Commander, are you well?" Theo asked, pulling up a chair. He'd wondered about Cullen since the night Cassandra had led him out of the war room. The intervening days had been busy and Theo had sneaked away with Dorian whenever he could, so he'd not seen much of Cullen. When a page found him at target practice and said Cullen needed to see him, Theo assumed the worst.

He eyed the wooden box on Cullen's desk. The Commander stared at it periodically, and Theo wondered what was in it but was afraid to ask. At last Cullen slammed the cover and took a deep breath. "I called you here for two reasons. The first is I've found some more information on the red templars. They're led by a man named Samson that I knew in Kirkwall. He used to be a templar," Cullen explained. "I'll do more digging, but it's possible that if we can take out Samson, without a leader the red templars will either collapse upon themselves, or join us."

"I don't know if the latter is a great option," Theo said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nor do I," Cullen conceded. "Varric has a friend who was researching red lyrium, so they headed out to Valammar over in Ferelden to check it out."

"That's surprising," Theo said. They'd hardly been back at Skyhold a week. "But I suppose it's in our best interests to know as much as possible." Cullen nodded, but Theo got the sense that he wasn't quite done. "Something else?" he asked, but he smiled. Part of him worried that Cullen was going to give him another lecture about being with Dorian; it seemed to be the popular thing to do these days.

Cullen merely cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the wooden box. "As you know, I used to be a templar." Theo nodded. "Templars have a very specific set of skills, but in order to hone those skills and use them, we have to take lyrium." Cullen cracked his knuckles and shook his hands out. "The need for it increases over time, and it comes to a point that without it we could die. And I… have stopped taking it."

Theo's witty retort died on his tongue and he sat there in front of Cullen with his mouth hanging open. Cullen did not snap, did not sigh; he just stared at the box on the desk, which Theo realized must have been his lyrium tools. "The Inquisition has supply lines because of the mages," he began, but Cullen shook his head.

"No. It's not an issue of supply for me," he said. His face broke into an ironic smile. "Supply is what made Samson who he is. He couldn't get his fixes often enough, so he went to outside suppliers. When he was thrown out of the order he still needed lyrium, and he always needed more. I won't become that," he said, clutching the box. Theo was afraid he would throw it.

Instead Cullen put it in a drawer and paced, trying to take deep breaths. "I stopped taking it months ago. I actually haven't touched it since before the Inquisition. I refuse to be bound to that life. If the withdrawal becomes too much for me…" Here he paused and clenched his hands, which Theo realized were shaking. "I have asked Cassandra to keep an eye on me. I trust her, not just in her opinion of me, but in her ability to lead the armies in my stead."

"Wait," Theo said. "I can't just lose you." His head was a jumble of thoughts as he tried to picture the Inquisition's armies without Cullen at the helm. It was not something he could imagine, and the thought frightened him; not because he didn't trust Cassandra, but because as long as he'd been part of all of this, Cullen and his experience and wisdom had been constant.

Cullen smiled a bit sadly and leaned against his desk. "The army takes priority. This was not a choice I undertook lightly—either to go off lyrium or to allow Cassandra to know. But the Inquisition is about more than my pride. I've seen too many things happen because of pride: Kinloch Hold, Kirkwall… I will not let that happen to the Inquisition." The way he punctuated his statement with a nod told Theo that the decision was final and not up for debate.

"Then I suppose I should say thank you," Theo finally said. Cullen quirked his head to the side. "For being honest. I appreciate you not hiding things from me."

Cullen seemed a bit surprised, but still grateful. "You deserve to know these things if the Inquisition is to be successful."

"Thank you, Cullen. I will trust Cassandra's judgment, but please don't keep me in the dark?" Theo asked as he got up to leave. Cullen waved farewell and Theo headed out onto the battlements outside Cullen's tower office.

"He hurts and wants to heal but it has to hurt more before that can happen."

The voice was soft and certain and Theo spun around to see Cole, the strange young man who'd come to his aid at Haven. He'd almost forgotten that he was still with them. And Theo was positive no one had been outside when he'd left Cullen's office. "How do you know?" Theo asked. As far as he knew, Cullen had only shared this information with Cassandra and himself.

Cole gave a ghost of a smile. "Because I help, but I can't help unless there's hurt." He fixed his pale eyes on Theo. "Smooth wood, tight string, deadly work of art in my hand and he won't even look at me, my voice cuts through the air and does not touch him. He's busy doing something but that something is ignoring me."

An unbidden lump formed in Theo's throat. "How do you know that?" he asked around the ball of glass that had settled where his voice should be.

"Because it hurts you," Cole said gently. "He wanders, watches, worries, waits, I sit in a corner listening and no one sees me. Maybe I'll be needed and if I am he'll finally see me."

"Stop," Theo said in a low voice. He clenched his left hand, the hand with the green mark that made him something. "I know it hurts me. It doesn't mean I want to feel it all over again. That was years ago." The first time Gavriel had been sick. When for one terrible moment Theo had wished his brother would die.

Cole reached out a hand. "I can heal it. Make you forget."

Theo stepped backward. The idea of forgetting all of these painful memories was so tempting, and yet at the same time it was strange because he did not want to lose that. It had become who he was, and part of what he fought for. "Is that how you help?" he asked quietly. "What are you, even?"

Cole must have had excellent reflexes, because Theo had only blinked and then the boy was up walking the chest-high wall of the battlement. Theo craned his neck to get a good look under the hat. Cole was not smiling. "Once there was Cole and he was hurt and cold and they forgot him. Now there is Cole and he helps the hurt and cold by making them forget."

It hardly answered Theo's question, but he supposed he had to put aside expectations of clear answers from the odd boy. "Sometimes remembering helps them heal," Theo finally said. "For some people the hurt is who they are, but for others, the pain pushes them."

"I only want to help." Cole's voice was small and broken, as if he might cry.

"I know," Theo said. "You saved many lives back at Haven, and I think you'll do good work here."

He started for the stairs, but Cole called after him, "If he wanted to see you, would you let him in?" Theo kept going. He pretended Cole was talking about Dorian, because that was a far more pleasant thought than wondering how he would react if his father were to reach out to him.

* * *

><p>Two nights later they celebrated a major victory: the completion of the tavern.<p>

Every time the door opened music, shouts, and laughter poured out. It was likely to be packed inside, and the thought of so many bodies pressing against him made Dorian shudder. There was only one body he wanted pressed against his, and it was not going to happen in that tavern. He sighed and paced about the courtyard, giving a nod of greeting to anyone who passed him. His stomach tensed whenever he thought of going in there. Certainly he and Theo had been together in public several times, but they always maintained a respectful distance. It was necessary, Dorian told Theo afterward, every time, and he kissed him and they laughed in the semi-dark of Dorian's room and left the matter at that.

It was driving Dorian to the edge of his sanity.

"You also don't fancy the company of others?" Solas asked, appearing beside him, watching the tavern door open once again into the night.

"I do, just not quite in this volume," Dorian told him. "What brings you here, if you're not interested in watching drunken soldiers and mercenaries?"

Solas smiled. "I'd ask you the same."

Dorian shrugged. "I do believe I asked you first," he said in a light, joking tone that clearly said he was not going to tell Solas anything.

Solas was quiet for a moment. "We exist in dark times, Dorian," he said. "We have a heavy burden to bear, but in order to bear it we must continue to hope. To hope, we must have morale. I suppose the tavern provides that for these people, and I wished to see some levity in the midst of everything."

"That's fair," Dorian said. The door opened once again and he thought about Theo inside, probably smiling and laughing, so he bid farewell to Solas and steeled his resolve.

Inside it was warm and bright and loud, but the kind of loud that came from people enjoying themselves and each others' company, rather than just being obnoxious and drunk. Heads swiveled when he entered and made his way through the crowd. _Yes, yes, get a good look at the Tevinter deigning to join you,_ he thought, though he tried to smile. Then again, he owned a mirror; he knew he was pleasant to look upon. He tried to think that was the reason they stared. It _did_ make him feel better.

"Dorian!" Theo called from across the room. He waved from a corner table where he was sitting with the Iron Bull, Krem, and some of the other Chargers. Dorian took a deep breath, smiled, and headed over. "I'm glad you made it," Theo said, smiling. "Your wine's been getting lonely."

It was amazing that there was an empty chair, but he realized that Theo had been saving it; there was already a glass of red wine on the table, too. Dorian tried to avoid the look Bull was giving him, but realized that the rest of the Chargers were exchanging money. "Something I've missed?" he asked, taking a sip. Not the best he'd ever had. But the thought was very kind.

"My guys were taking bets on whether or not you'd show up," Bull said with a crooked grin. He'd obviously started drinking early. "Dalish even doubled the bet when the boss ordered you a drink." He laughed.

Dorian just sipped again and tried to look disgusted, but Theo's hand was on his leg under the table and it was quite distracting. "Josephine tried, but we don't have enough of a presence yet in Tevinter get to get wine," Theo said with a sigh.

At that point Dalish and Krem came back with another round of drinks for the table, including another glass of red wine for Dorian, who wasn't even half finished his first. Theo already seemed a bit tipsy; his cheeks were splotched red and his eyes were bright. His hand absently stroked Dorian's thigh. Maker's testicles, but it felt good to be touched like that—just casually and naturally. Even with all these people around.

Dorian downed the first glass and started in on the second.

"That's right, mage boy, show my guys how they do it in Tevinter!" Bull roared.

"Fuck me, that's not how we do things in Tevinter," Krem snapped. He stood and chugged his full mug of ale, hardly spilling any down the front of his jerkin. He slammed the mug down on the table. "_That's_ how we do it," he said, breathing heavily, but grinning.

"Are you going to sit back and take that?" Bull asked Dorian.

Dorian took a large gulp of wine. He found it tasted better if he drank it quickly. "Yes, in fact I am," he said, already feeling pleasant and warmed by the wine. Krem's drunken grin spread and he yelled for _another_ round of ales.

Everyone finished off what drinks they had, even if they'd just gotten one. Theo's fingers dug into Dorian's leg lightly, and he was biting his bottom lip in excitement. Dorian rested his hand atop Theo's. It was warm, and Theo turned his own hand over, palm up, and laced his fingers with Dorian's.

Dorian finished off his wine and also waved for ale. _Venhedis._ He was going to enjoy himself tonight.

The drinks arrived, they all grabbed their mugs, and at once began to chug. Bull was the first one to slam his mug on the table, so hard that the handle broke off. Krem laughed at that, and swore loudly as ale came out his nose. Of the Chargers, only Grim and Rocky were able to finish without spilling (much) of their drinks. Dorian tried to chug, but wound up having to sip and hating every moment of it; surprisingly, Theo finished off his draught. He slammed his mug down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before sitting back proudly, and all the Chargers cheered.

It was not Dorian's usual form of entertainment, but seeing Theo so relaxed and confident made him stay. And then he realized Theo had held his hand the entire time. Dorian was not accustomed to this simple affection, and didn't know if it was the action or the wine that left him feeling warm but confused.

The Chargers got up one at a time and stumbled away. Bull was the last to leave and he gave Theo a once-over. "Lemme know if you need me to carry your ass back to your room, Boss," he said with a loud laugh before he too left. Even though they had a prime table and the tavern was bustling, no asked to take seats.

"You convinced the Chargers to save the table for you," Dorian murmured.

"Of course I did," Theo said. "Everyone's intimidated by them," he added with a grin. "Do you want more wine?"

"You ask the silliest questions," Dorian said with a smile, meeting Theo's gaze. "Though the Bull may end up carrying _me_ back to my rooms tonight if I'm not careful."

Theo shook his head. "Hey, I look scrawny, but I draw a pretty heavy bow. If you need carrying…" He stopped abruptly and looked away. He reached for his mug and went to take a gulp, only to realize it was empty. He tried to pull his hand away, as if aware of what he was doing for the first time. "Shit. I'm sorry, Dor, after all we've talked about discretion and…"

"Shh," Dorian said. "Ideally everyone will be too drunk to remember they ever saw this at all." How he hated walking this fine line.

Theo's brow furrowed. "I know I'm not like most you're probably used to, but I…"

Dorian clasped Theo's hand. "You're _not_ like most, but in all of the best ways possible. I'm only concerned what this could do to you."

Theo sighed and pulled his hand away from Dorian's. "If people hate me because of who I choose to be with then they can find someone else to defeat Corypheus," he said. He toyed with his empty mug and then reached for Dorian's unfinished drink.

"You're the Herald of Andraste," Dorian said. Even to him it sounded like a hollow reason to maintain such distance, especially when they both so clearly wanted to close the gap.

"I don't know why that means so much to you," Theo said.

"Because you could get hurt, and I won't have you hurt because of me," Dorian said. _Fasta vass_, why wouldn't Theo see that? It was hurting Dorian just as much; but as Mother Giselle had proven, it seemed people were just looking to find fault in all things Tevinter. Dorian included.

Theo stared at him and for one moment Dorian thought Theo might kiss him right there in full view of everybody; his heart quickened. Theo just shook his head before finishing off the last of Dorian's ale and pushing away from the table. "Theo, please," Dorian said with a sigh, realizing that, once again, in trying to help Theo he'd probably hurt his feelings. Part of him was irritated, but he had to remember that Theo was younger, likely less experienced, and under enormous pressure that Dorian was probably adding to.

He got up as well and pushed through the sea of people to the doorway. Theo was already halfway across the courtyard; dammit, he was fast. "Theo!" Dorian called, but Theo didn't turn around. So Dorian did the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do: he ran after the man he cared for. "Theo, please, I'm sorry," Dorian said, grabbing his arm.

Theo turned. In the dark it was hard to see his expression, but Dorian didn't care. He cupped Theo's face in his hands and kissed him. Theo inhaled sharply but Dorian held his lips against Theo's and caressed his cheekbones with his thumbs. Theo relaxed and kissed back, and after a moment his arms wrapped around Dorian.

Then he pulled back and caught his breath. "You don't get to keep doing this," Theo said quietly, but he held Dorian close to him. "You don't get to keep me at arms' length until nobody's watching. You don't get to keep telling me it's for my own good, and then kiss me and hope I forget," Theo said. Dorian tried to say something, but Theo trailed a finger over his lower lip. Dorian shuddered at the touch. "I know you mean well. But I'm an adult, and I'm the Inquisitor. Let me make my choices and deal with the consequences if there are to be any."

It was a frightening thought, what Theo was suggesting. Vulnerability was a weakness in Tevinter, and Dorian had learned early on never to show weakness of any sort. To care about another person was to be vulnerable; but how could caring so deeply for someone who obviously cared for you the same way, be a weakness?

"This is a lot for me to get used to," Dorian finally admitted, and even that was hard to say. He was admitting his vulnerability to the one person who could hurt him the most.

"Me too," Theo said with a slight chuckle. He kissed Dorian's forehead lightly. "I'm not suggesting we snog on the Skyhold Throne for all to see," he said.

"Pity," Dorian managed. He'd never quite been this undone in his life, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

Theo laughed softly. "I'm all for keeping it classy. Just not so… reserved. I want to be able to talk with you and laugh with you without worrying if anyone's watching."

"That sounds fair," Dorian managed. "I'm sure it is rather difficult for you to keep your hands off of me, after all," he added.

"You have no idea," Theo said. He held Dorian closer. "You're the first person to really see _me_. I've never had that before, which I guess is why I'm so eager to be with you," he said.

Dorian closed his eyes. He wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy such simple pleasures as much as he currently was. And if he was able to see Theo for who he was, Dorian realized that Theo appreciated _him_ for simply being Dorian. All his life Dorian's worth had been based on his bloodline, his talent, and his potential, and all so long as he did what a good Altus was supposed to do. When his father disowned him he began to base his own worth in his pride and conviction. But to Theo, he was unconditionally Dorian.

Dorian barely noticed when people passed them, either coming from or heading to the tavern. People were seriously going to talk. But it was a small price to pay for holding and kissing the one person who truly saw and care for _him_. Not a failed Altus, not an outsider, but just Dorian.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Over 100 reviews? Do you all know how seriously awesome you are? Because you are. If you know it, it won't hurt to hear it again, right? So you're awesome!_  
><em>

I don't usually do this, but I have to admit I was listening to the song "Distance" by Christina Perri, and so much of that song makes me thing Theo and Dorian. It's very sweet, and his this almost-requited love vibe to it, and it's what gave this chapter its title.

Many thanks to the new follows and favorites, and to: AgapeErosPhilia, FenZev, Melysande, karebear, abbiebubble, Bathorybabe, olivebg, deagh, mille libri, Yvaine-star, and dr. kitten! Also, congrats in order to abbiebubble, who met the Queen! How awesome! Thank you all for the feedback and constructive pointers. It only makes the story better, and I mean it when I say I can't do it without you fantastic people. So thank you x1000000000!


	14. Favors

_Chapter 14: Favors_

"Dorian. Have you come to complain about the ravens?" Leliana asked, glancing up, but smiling. "Solas has said their droppings end up in his tea from time to time."

Dorian laughed at the thought of what Solas's face must have looked like during that conversation. "No, I haven't, Sister. If anything I brought some treats for them, if I may," he said, and Leliana's smile spread and she nodded. He absently fed bits of meat scraps to the ravens and gathered his courage. It was never easy to admit he needed something, and even more difficult to admit he needed help with it. "I know you're a busy woman," he began.

"You need something," she said. "And I have ways of getting things."

"Yes. What I really need is simply for you to track down a person. A merchant to whom I sold something of great value a few years back," he said. He was grateful to have the ravens to fixate on, so he could avoid Leliana's scrutiny without appearing rude. It was hideously embarrassing to have to ask for anyone's help with this, but he had exhausted his own personal leads. He would not ask Theo either, even though the Inquisitor would probably leap to the task. He would not be in Theo's debt, that much he promised himself.

Leliana joined him and a raven hopped onto her outstretched arm. She lightly scratched its neck feathers and it looked at her with adoring beady eyes. She smiled. "Just give me a name and what you seek, and it shall be done," she said.

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Are you certain? I know how much there is to do…"

"I will send a message to your camp in the Western Approach once I find anything," she promised. "Busy or not, this is important to you."

"How do you know that?" Dorian asked. "I may just be behaving like the spoiled Tevinter I am. Though no one has peeled a grape for me in weeks," he added with a grin.

"You sought out help," Leliana said. "You are not the sort to seek out help, and you even would deny help when it is freely offered. This must be important."

"You must secretly be Ben-Hassrath," he teased. "You read people too well."

"In another life I was trained as a Bard. That training has been invaluable in my service as the Left Hand of the Divine, and now in the Inquisition."

"So I see," Dorian said. He handed Leliana a rolled up piece of parchment with a name on it. She looked it over before nodding and putting it in her pocket.

"You may also wish to know that my scouts report Venatori in the Exalted Plains," she added. "Do with this what you will."

"Thank you, Sister Leliana," he said, and took his leave.

"Dorian," she called, and he turned. "I've heard people talking about you and Theodane."

He winced. Here it came: the lectures, the disapproval, the disgust with everything he represented. "Yes. Well…" he said, at a loss for words. What did one say to someone who already knew everything?

But a light, teasing smile touched Leliana's face. "You seem to make him happy," she said, "and that's important. But make him unhappy…"

Dorian grinned in relief; it was good to hear that he made Theo happy enough that others noticed. "I'm sure if I were to accidentally do such a thing you'd have strong words to say to me."

She shook her head, still smiling. "I was a Bard, Dorian. I know how to kill quickly and quietly and make their bodies disappear."

The way she kept smiling, and the casual way in which she said it made it clear that Leliana's word was good. "I'm sure you do. I appreciate you giving me warning first," he said and left, feeling her gaze like daggers in his back.

* * *

><p>Before now the only part of Orlais Theo had seen was Val Royeaux, and he'd thought that the entire country was a sparkling city that spanned all of southwestern Thedas. In reality it was a lot of rolling and rocky countryside that looked like it had seen better days. The Exalted Plains, for instance, seemed to have been named ironically, though Cassandra and Cullen assured him that once they'd been beautiful and worthy of the name. Now, even if they weren't suffering from Fade rifts and undead on the ramparts, they would still be depressing.<p>

They'd managed to clear out and claim the old Riverside Garrison. It hadn't been easy. Bull had taken a deep wound to his thigh, and Cassandra had been knocked down and sprained her ankle. It was only after so much damage had been done that they realized there was a Fade rift underground.

"The dead dream of being alive. Living, laughing loud, lunging for life and they come up short," Cole babbled as they headed down. "The Fade calls to the dead and the dead cry out in gratitude."

The only thing Theo could assume he meant was that the Fade rift had somehow stirred the dead buried here long ago, much like the rift in Crestwood. He was tired and had taken a couple of hits that would definitely leave marks, but he had to close this rift. He blocked out the sounds of fighting and the pull of the demons that tumbled through the rift. When it was over he was exhausted. Whatever blood had been spilled in this place over the centuries had strengthened the forces that created the Fade rift.

"If we hold the Plains we may be able to curry some favor with the Dalish," Cullen said that night as he cleaned his sword; he had laid low many demons that day. He sat before the fire and took a long pull at a brandy bottle from the supply carriages. He handed it to Theo, who took a few gulps. It warmed him and dulled his pain, two things for which he was grateful. "If we can gain a foothold in Orlais on our way to the Approach, it may increase our chances of success."

Theo nodded. "Thank you, Cullen. I'm glad to have you along."

"I was feeling a bit cooped up at Skyhold anyway," Cullen said with a tired smile. "We don't know what we'll find when we arrive; I think it's prudent to bring the army force along with us. If nothing else, it will show Orlais we are not a force to trifle with."

Cullen's confidence, even after such a tough day, made Theo feel a little better. He was sure that failures were bound to happen; it was just the law of averages. But he had yet to suffer a major defeat, and while that felt good, it was also scary. He thanked Cullen and headed toward the tents, but Cullen called for him. "Theo, I think you'll be good for him," he said with a smile.

Theo blushed. "I hope so," he said, and turned away quickly. He knew news of their courtyard kiss would spread; it was a risk he'd been willing to take. But to actually hear commentary on it, especially from one of his closest advisors, was embarrassing. He hustled toward his tent.

Theo's tent was more like a cabin with cloth walls, and it was slightly embarrassing to have such accommodations when he knew the soldiers were out in the field or sleeping on bedrolls under rocky overhangs, or anywhere that could provide some shelter. He nodded a greeting to a passing guard and entered his tent, then jumped and nearly took the whole thing down when he realized he wasn't alone.

Dorian chuckled and set down the book he'd been reading. "I'm glad to see you too," he teased. He'd changed from his usual leather, mail, and mage robes, into a simple pair of breeches and a loose shirt, and when he moved he grimaced. "I took a bit of a hit today," he said in response to Theo's worried look. "Nothing I won't recover from. I didn't need that kidney anyway," he said, but was grinning. "What about you?"

Theo shrugged and began removing his armor. Dorian got up and began to help him, making quick work of the armor pieces. "I'll live this time," Theo said, moving so Dorian could better access a set of buckles. He winced. The breastplate hit the floor.

"You shouldn't joke like that," Dorian said quietly as his deft hands went to the hem of Theo's sweat-soaked shirt. Theo held his breath and stiffened as Dorian lifted his shirt and examined the bruises that had started to form. "I'm just getting used to having you around; I don't wish to think about you being gone." He tugged the shirt gently and Theo pulled it off.

It was a new feeling, standing shirtless before Dorian. Theo was conscious of his paleness, his lack of bulk, and his new bruises. The last time he'd been partially clothed around a non-healer had been the brothel. He felt now as he did then: unsure, unprepared, unappealing. He glanced at the ground and fidgeted with his hands. He felt as if he should cover himself, or at least look for another shirt quickly.

Dorian did not avert his eyes; rather he kept looking, and he smiled. He rested his hands on Theo's chest. "This doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked, and Theo shook his head, not sure he trusted his voice. "I wish I had a modicum of healing magic," he said with a twinge of regret in his voice. "I hadn't thought about it much before, but now that I see you injured, I don't care for the thought of you in pain," he said.

Theo smiled and pressed Dorian's hand to his heart. "This is probably the least of the injuries I'm likely to receive in this mess. If you get sentimental now, I'm going to hate to see you when I'm missing an arm or my intestines are hanging out."

Dorian narrowed his eyes. "Well. Aren't we the macabre one this evening."

"Maybe. It helps me cope with what happened," Theo said. He tried to get a look at Dorian's injury, but the mage had the unfair advantage of still being fully clothed. Theo pulled the pile of blankets and furs off the cot and arranged them on the floor before sinking down into them. Dorian joined him and gathered Theo into his arms. Theo closed his eyes. "There will be more like this. And people will die. My people," he said, snuggling against Dorian's chest. "It's already happening. I can't stop it. Knowing that they're out there…"

"They believe in the Inquisition," Dorian said, running his hand through Theo's tangled hair. "Everyone who is here has made a choice. You have to honor that choice, no matter how it makes you feel."

Theo sighed. Dorian was right, of course. "I'm trying," he said with a yawn that made his ribs hurt. But he was so tired that even with the ache in his torso, he drifted off. It was pleasant being held by Dorian, especially when he was out of all that leather. It was soft and supple from years of wear and care, but this way Theo felt closer to Dorian's skin—even though the mage still wore his shirt. Oh well, he'd tease him about it tomorrow night, or maybe the next…

The horns woke him at dawn the next morning. He was nested in a pile of blankets on the floor and he was alone. Theo sighed and winced. His ribs were bruised deep purple-green, and moving, while not impossible, was not fun. He would have to see a healer before they struck out today.

A squire had removed his armor for servicing in the night. A page had filled the ewer in his tent, probably while he was still asleep, and Theo splashed the chill water over his face and tried to clean up the rest of himself the best he could. He knew that seeing Orlais this way was important: he was viewing the parts of Thedas over which the Inquisition's arm would stretch. But he missed Skyhold and its conveniences: particularly baths.

He was as clean as he was going to get, so he dressed in loose clothing and stiffly headed out to find a healer. When he arrived at the medical tents he found the Iron Bull still there. He couldn't tell if Bull was paler than usual; the gray of his skin made it hard. He was sitting on a cot sharpening the edges of a huge great axe. He looked up when Theo approached.

"Hey boss," he said with a ghost of a smile. "You feeling okay?"

"Just some bruising; maybe cracked ribs. I was more concerned about you," he said. Bull had changed into a different set of pants, which he probably had to pack—the quartermasters probably did not stock clothing in Qunari sizes, Theo realized.

"I'll live," Bull said. "Had much worse than this. Though this is the first time I let a healer help me," he said with a grimace. Theo raised an eyebrow, and Bull shook his head. "No fucking way were they going to use a spell on me. Stitches sewed it up, and they gave me some sort of potion. Elfroot or whatever. It's helped take the edge off, though nothing's a substitute for whiskey," he said with a chuckle. He looked up at Theo. "Don't worry about me, Boss."

"Well… you're one of my men. It's my responsibility to worry," Theo said.

Bull laughed again. "There you go getting all sentimental and shit. I can't stop you from thinking that, but don't get all sappy on the battlefield," he advised.

It was easier for Theo to nod and agree than it was to actually believe that. Especially now: every time he fought it was a struggle to keep his eyes from drifting to Dorian, and to continue to protect himself _and_ take out the enemies when a new, fierce instinct shouted at him to cover Dorian and protect the mage at all costs—even though Dorian could clearly protect himself. "That's good advice," Theo finally told Bull. And it was. He had to take it to heart, had to remember that, much as he was growing to care for Dorian, there was more at stake. Dealings before feelings, Bull had said once. It was more important than ever to remember that.

The healers Fiona had sent along easily healed his cracked ribs, and only a trace of yellowish bruising remained on his torso. By then someone had brought his armor and bow and he finished gearing up before finding Cullen and Cassandra having breakfast by the river. He grabbed a bowl of porridge and joined them. "Will we continue to head west today?" he asked.

Cullen nodded. He didn't look like he'd slept well, but his hands were steady and his voice clear. "I think if we leave a token force here, and spread the word that there's an Inquisition outpost on the Plains, it will be enough for now. We've cleared undead from the ramparts and have some Orlesian soldiers grateful enough to join, so maybe more will come."

"They will," Cassandra said with certainty. "As the political situation with Orlais worsens, and as the Chantry continues tearing itself apart, the Inquisition is emerging as the stable force in Thedas." She was grinning, pleased with herself. "We should gather the troops before we lose much more daylight," she said, and Theo agreed. It also gave him an excuse to go find Dorian.

It took a bit of asking around, but he finally found Dorian's tent. He peered in and Dorian was still sleeping, though how anyone could sleep through the noise of a busy camp at dawn was beyond him. Theo realized he had never seen Dorian quite like this. Dorian had very long lashes that fluttered against his cheeks as he slept, and his breathing was strong and even. His hair, normally so perfectly in place, was ruffled and stuck out. Theo had learned to be silent from a young age when his uncles taught him to hunt in the woods outside of Ostwick. He stepped carefully and sat down next to Dorian and rested his hand on the mage's bare shoulder.

It felt… different somehow. It felt like a soft, light buzzing, as of dragonfly wings beneath his fingertips. Even in the chill of oncoming winter he was still warm to the touch, and his dark skin was smooth beneath Theo's fingertips.

Dorian stirred and opened his eyes. "Am I still dreaming?" he asked in a sleepy voice.

"No, it's really morning and you really have to get up," Theo said with a smile. "I figured if I didn't get to wake up next to you, at least you get to wake up next to me." Dorian opened his mouth to speak, but Theo shook his head. "I know you have your reasons." He leaned in and kissed Dorian lightly. "Cassandra wants to head out as quickly as possible. Our troops are already heading out, scouting the road ahead."

Dorian sighed and turned over. He stretched languidly and then sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist. "Enjoying the view?" he asked Theo, who'd gone silent. Dorian had the unfair advantage of having seen Theo shirtless the night before, but also the advantage of being attractive and confident in his appearance.

Theo just nodded and blushed, then turned away so Dorian could get up and dress. As he did, Dorian told stories about growing up in Tevinter, about living in a land where magic was just part of everyday life and no one gave a thought to it. He never spoke of his home or family though. "What was Ostwick like?" Dorian asked. Theo heard him pulling straps and fastening buckles. He worked quickly.

"It's a coastal holding. It's nicer than Kirkwall, and we were able to avoid a lot of Fereldan refugees during the Blight. There were some forests, and I learned to hunt when I was young. The Chantry is big news there, and everyone in the Trevelyan family serves it in some way. If you're not a mage, you become a sister, a brother, or a templar; or you rule over Ostwick and make sure everyone pays due respect to the Chantry."

"You sound as if you'd just eaten something unpleasant," Dorian said. "I'm glad you got away; it sounds simply dreadful." He reappeared in Theo's sights, fully dressed, but Theo couldn't get the image of his bare chest out of his mind. "You know, the Pavus family was once related to the Trevelyans a very long time ago," he said, looking into a small mirror and fixing his hair. "A _very_ long time ago, mind. At least three ages. Also, I cannot _believe_ you saw my hair like this."

"That doesn't make this awkward, does it?" Theo asked, moving behind Dorian and wrapping his arms around him. "And your hair looked fine."

Dorian smiled and leaned back into him. "We're talking three hundred years. As far as I'm concerned, our Trevelyans and your Trevelyans are completely different families by now."

* * *

><p>They headed out across the Plains under an overcast sky, though it did not seem that rain was likely. They paused for a break to water the horses. "Leliana told me there were Venatori sleeper cells in these parts," Dorian murmured to Theo, who was busy stripping more twigs for more arrows. He did that whenever they paused, and Dorian normally loved watching his deft hands work.<p>

Theo looked up, his dark hair falling into his face. He brushed it away. "Feel like sneaking off?" he asked with a grin.

"_Vishante kaffas,_ no!" Dorian snapped. "You've fought them before; now that they know what you can do, they'll stop at nothing to bring you before Corypheus. More than likely, they'll kill you and just take your hand to him, since that's all he really needs."

Theo turned his left hand over and stared at his glowing palm. "I know this is useful, and it's helping us do great things," he said. "But it's a fucking pain in the arse."

Dorian did laugh at that. "Sometimes you're the most sensitive and eloquent person I've ever met, and others your mouth is worse than a Rivaini pirate's." He leaned in and surprised Theo with a kiss. "I still like it though," he said, and Theo's cheeks turned read even as he smiled.

They set up another camp that night, not nearly as big as the Riverside Garrison. Night was falling when Theo peeked into Dorian's tent, still in his armor. "Cullen needs to see us," Theo said.

"Why do I feel like a naughty child about to get into trouble?" Dorian asked, but Theo just beckoned him to follow, so he did with a sigh.

Cullen glanced up from his tactical maps when they approached. With him was a willowy-framed young man who looked familiar, but Dorian could not quite recall from where. "This is Cole," Theo said. "He… helps. He's the one who alerted us that the Red Templars were coming to Haven." Dorian furrowed his brow. Now that Theo mentioned it, he did recall something of the sort. "Cole was able to find a Venatori camp out here earlier today, and he's volunteered to go with us tonight to take them out."

Part of Dorian swelled with excitement and gratitude that Theo would be willing to do this for him. "This may be the most immature and irresponsible thing you've yet suggested," he said instead. "You can't say you condone this, Commander," he said to Cullen, ignoring the stunned expression on Theo's face.

Cullen glanced up. "Engaging the Venatori with the army would be more foolish. What Cole and the Inquisitor are suggesting is an ambush by night: a small tactical force with ranged weapons and magic, while Cole goes in and neutralizes threats," he said grimly.

Dorian glanced between Cullen and Theo. "It would work," he finally conceded. "And I would be lying if I said I didn't want to reduce the Venatori's numbers. But the Inquisitor remains behind," he said firmly.

Theo glared at him. "No. I'm going."

"Dorian makes a good point," Cullen said quietly. "You're easily the best archer I've ever met, but this is dangerous."

"Isn't everything we do?" Theo asked. His voice had a hysterical edge to it. "What makes this any different?"

"We're going in against a Venatori sleeper cell," Dorian said. "This isn't demons or Fade rifts or bandits." He tried to meet Theo's gaze, but Theo wouldn't look at him, and his cheeks were flushed. "It's for your safety," he said quietly.

"Let him come with us," Cole said in his soft voice. "He wants to help. He'll help anyway; he doesn't need permission to do what he wishes." He had a strange smile on his fair face and his flaxen hair fell into his light eyes.

Cullen and Dorian stared at Theo, who shrugged. "He's right?" Theo asked.

Cullen sighed and scratched at his curls. "I only command the Inquisition forces," he said at last. "I don't command the Inquisitor himself. I can only advise you to remain behind for your own safety," he said.

But Dorian knew that gleam in Theo's eyes and knew that there would be no holding him back. Cole remembered the layout of the Venatori camp perfectly, which again left Dorian wondering just what he was. Even Dorian couldn't read Theo's mind that well, and Theo was an open book to him. Theo consented to remaining a ranged attacker and not getting into the fray, if it came to it. He wasn't happy about that, and Dorian wasn't happy about even that much. But there was no overruling Theo, not when he had Cullen backing him up, or when he was _this _determined.

"Do me a favor and stay alive, would you?" Dorian said when they finally broke to make preparations for the raid. He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice.

"I wouldn't dream of dying without asking your permission first," Theo said, but he wasn't smiling.

Dorian grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. "You keep saying you want your life to mean something, and yet you're so keen on running headlong into danger," he said. "You don't need to prove anything to anybody. Least of all me," he added softly, and pulled Theo into a hug. "_He's_ not here, either, and fuck him to the Void."

Theo tensed for a moment, and then sighed. "No fair bringing my father into the argument," he said softly. He returned the embrace. "I'm not trying to prove anything, I just… look, if you don't want me running into dangerous situations, what makes you think I'm fine with you doing the same thing?"

"The Inquisition can function without me. Not true of you."

Theo sighed and nuzzled Dorian's neck. "Maybe _I_ can't function without you," he murmured. "How well would the Inquisition function then?"

Dorian was caught off guard by the emotion that coursed through him, leaving him warm and tingly and _scared_. "Then I, Dorian of House Pavus, do solemnly swear not to die tonight," he said, then pulled away from Theo and went to grab his staff. He had Venatori to kill.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>So many thanks to FenZev, Bathorybabe, Melysande, AgapeErosPhilia, Mandimal, deagh, karebear, Eureka234, dr. kitten, guest (whom I think is abbiebubble!), Miss Lubberly, olivebg, and mille libri, and all who are on alert and following the story! And to AgapeErosPhilia, for asking when we'd see more of "Theo and his Tevinter prince." Maker, I loved that wording! Also, if you want to see some relaxed and slightly sexy Theo/Dorian, I wrote a one-shot called "Active Reading" for the DA Fanfiction Writers' Group challenge.

Finally, if you're in the mood to be hit in the feels, check out mandimal's "Just a Little While Longer". The first chapter had me on the edge of tears the entire time. Thanks again, everyone!


	15. One Less Venatori

_Chapter 15: One Less Venatori_

Theo hadn't seen Dorian so grim before. Even when they'd first met, when he was fighting a losing battle against a Fade rift in the Redcliffe Chantry, Dorian had been pleasant, if a bit sardonic. But as they crept over the hills in the dark, guided by starlight and Theo's sharp eyes, Dorian was silent and tense. Theo longed to touch him, to tell him that things were going to be fine. Every time he glanced over, Dorian would not look at him. He was still unhappy that Theo was along.

He sighed. He appreciated Dorian's concern, but he'd fought Venatori before when they'd first met, and Theo didn't understand why now was any different, except for the fact they had feelings for each other.

They crested a rise that looked down into a dell. A fire burned in the center of a camp. A blur of movement caught his eye, and Theo watched Cole steal silently down the hill. He didn't move like any human Theo knew, and he'd met many stealthy individuals during his training. Cullen was tense; he would make too much noise if he went now, but the strain of the wait was evident. Theo scanned below; no sign of Cole.

Then a man came stumbling out of his tent, clutching a gaping gash in his abdomen; the blood was dark in the firelight, but Theo could tell there was a lot of it. There was a moment of silence in the camp as the Venatori began to realize what was happening, and then they started running about, shouting and looking.

Dorian didn't hesitate. He brandished his staff and fired off a spell; one Venatori caught the brunt of the spell and staggered, but remained upright. Theo wondered why Dorian hadn't blasted him with his primal magic; the man was talking to his companions, pointing in their direction. Just when Theo thought they'd be seen, Dorian smiled and waved his staff in an arc.

The man exploded.

The people around him fell, some clutching at injuries.

Dorian kept firing off spells, and now Cullen was heading into the fray. Cole was somewhere, slashing. Theo moved away from Dorian and flanked the camp. It was dark, but he'd hunted game in the dense forests at night. He nocked an arrow, took aim, let it fly. He fell into the easy rhythm, distracting the Venatori and crippling as many as possible while Dorian called upon the power of Fade spirits drawn to death.

Cullen moved through the pack of Venatori, slashing with his sword and bashing with his shield. Theo picked off those that he had a clear shot at; the last thing he needed was to wound his commander, especially when Cullen had stood up for him. And then Cole was materializing out of nowhere, his daggers a ghostly gleam in the starlight as he slashed throats.

Theo lowered his bow, but suddenly realized that there were no spells flying. Dorian's mana reserves ran deep, he knew, and there was no way Dorian he would have run low so soon. Theo turned back toward Dorian, who was battling with a Venatori in close combat. Theo drew his bow and let loose an arrow, which missed. Shit. The two mages were moving too quickly, and it was too dark.

He closed in and grabbed another arrow; nocked it; fired. Missed. He watched as Dorian took a hit from the other mage's staff right in the stomach. Anger flared up in Theo and he went for another arrow, but he was out.

The Venatori mage hit Dorian again and Theo did the only thing he could think of and charged the other mage; protecting Dorian was all that mattered. He was vaguely aware that Dorian was swearing at him, and then he was rolling down the hill into the camp with his hands around the other mage's neck. He was dizzy from the roll and the firelight was suddenly bright, and there were shouts and the clash of Cullen's weapons.

Suddenly a stabbing pain shot through Theo's skull and he fell backward off the Venatori, who scrambled back, gasping. Theo clutched at his head with one hand and tried to get up, but couldn't. He felt around for his bow, but he must have dropped it. He didn't remember what he'd been doing, only that there was a Venatori mage bearing down on him, pointing at him with a staff, the tip of which was glowing with fire. _I should move. I should get up and go away,_ Theo thought, but couldn't.

Then the mage was doubled over, clutching at a wound in his stomach, and Cullen slammed his shield into the man. The mage staggered back and fell, and Cullen finished him off with a stroke of his sword. By then Cole was finishing up dispatching the other Venatori, and Dorian was storming down the hill in a rage. Theo got to his feet, still rubbing his head and wondering what had happened. His mind was fuzzy, but he wasn't drunk and he hadn't hit his head.

"What were you _doing?"_ Dorian snapped, his handsome face spattered with blood and twisted with a mix of relief and anger.

"Dorian, it's over," Cullen said, wiping his brow. "I think we're all fine."

"You nearly got yourself killed," Dorian said to Theo.

Theo looked down, still feeling dazed, and saw Dorian clutching the front of his light breastplate. He looked into Dorian's eyes, so pretty in the firelight… "I'm… not dead. I was protecting you," he said. Why was Dorian so upset? Dorian pulled him closer and stared into his eyes. "You have nice eyes, you know," Theo said.

Dorian sighed. "He got hit with a mind blast," he said, releasing Theo.

"Will he be alright?" Cullen asked.

Dorian tapped his chin. "Given time."

"Can you get him back to our camp?" Cullen asked. "Cole and I can search this area for anything of use."

Theo listened to the conversation go on without him. He was suddenly feeling very tired, as if he had no will to keep going. Dorian handed him his bow, then guided him back to camp with a warm hand on his back. The night was dark and starry, and so pleasant…

* * *

><p><em>Fasta <em>fucking _vass._ Theo _would_ completely pass out in the middle of nowhere. Dorian wasn't a weakling, but he was pretty certain he wouldn't be able to drag Theo back to camp. He'd exhausted his favor with the spirits for the evening, so that was out as well.

He knelt in the grass and rested one hand on Theo's forehead. He sent out the tiniest trickle of mana and felt the residual effects of the spell. It seemed the spell would have no lasting consequences, which was a relief. Dorian sighed and lit the end of his staff like a beacon. Someone would see the light. Until then all he could do was wait.

He settled on the ground and rested Theo's head in his lap. "You were lucky this time," he said quietly. "One day you won't be. Then what will I do?" He held his staff with one hand and rested the other one across Theo's chest. He gazed up to the sky and tried to pick out the constellations he'd learned as a child. This far south though everything was slightly off, so he sighed and waited.

Time passed and Dorian realized he was starting to doze when the sound of heavy footfalls startled him out of a half sleep. He didn't disturb Theo, but held his staff out. To his relief, it was Cullen approaching. "I got as far as I could before he passed out," Dorian said by way of explanation. "It was a fairly strong spell."

Cullen just nodded. He knelt and gently slapped Theo's cheek. "Inquisitor. Theodane. Wake up," he snapped. Theo's eyelids fluttered. He blinked and gave Cullen a strange look. "Come on. Back to camp, where we'll discuss this later," Cullen said. He tugged on Theo's arm and they managed to get him to his feet. Cullen and Dorian each draped one of Theo's arms over their shoulders and managed to get him stumbling back to camp.

Cassandra rushed over and Bull looked up, unhappy, as they entered the camp. "He'll be fine," Cullen said, a bit too brightly. "Just a spell that should wear off by the morning." _I hope,_ Dorian thought, but he smiled to echo Cullen's confidence and put the people at ease.

They got Theo into his tent and unceremoniously dropped him on the cot. "I can brief Cassandra and Bull," Cullen said. "Can you take care of the Inquisitor?"

Dorian nodded. "I'll do whatever is in my power," he said, and Cullen left them alone.

Dorian touched Theo's hand, again sending out the thread of detection. The magic was still in his system, but the effects weren't worsening. He worked to get Theo's breastplate off, figuring he'd be more comfortable and sleep better.

And now that he was sitting in safety, Dorian could feel just how tired he was. His eyelids drooped and he yawned. He climbed onto the camp cot and lay down with his arms around Theo. A small part of him warned of any number of reasons why he shouldn't do it, but he was too tired to care, and too relieved Theo didn't seem permanently damaged. "I'll yell at you in the morning," he murmured.

* * *

><p>Theo felt like he had a hangover. It was hard to ride his horse when feeling this dizzy, but he assured Cullen and Cassandra that he was ready to continue on toward the Western Approach the next day. The last thing he needed were more "I told you so" lectures and glares. He'd made a mistake, and he was going to deal with the consequences.<p>

Dorian rode alongside him. He didn't say much, though Theo swore he remembered the mage saying something about yelling at him. Theo was pretty sure he deserved to be yelled at, and yet Dorian remained quiet, which was worse. Theo didn't say anything either; no sense encouraging Dorian's wrath. Besides, he'd woken up with Dorian sleeping beside him. It was far more than Theo deserved.

But… he'd tackled that Venatori to protect Dorian. What was so bad about that?

They continued west, occasionally meeting up with roving bandits or mercenary groups. Sometimes it was a band of refugees, looking for shelter from the Orlesian civil war. Cullen and Cassandra pointed them toward Skyhold or the Riverside Garrison, where the able bodied could join up with the Inquisition if they wished. "We're not going to be able to feed them all," Cullen said with a sigh.

"They're safer there than they are out here," Cassandra said, gazing around. They were coming to the end of the Exalted Plains. The grass was sparser and the air warmer. There was still plenty of potable water to be found, and the supply officers began collecting it in barrels for their trek into the Western Approach. "The Maker surely was feeling spent when He came to create this place," she said, shaking her head.

"What's out there?" Theo asked, riding up alongside her. His education had consisted mostly of learning the Chant inside and out, quoting mindlessly whenever he was asked. He'd learned Chantry history, but little of politics and geography of Thedas outside of the Free Marches, and now his ignorance annoyed him.

Cassandra explained what she knew of the Western Approach as they rode on under a bright blue sky and a hot, unrelenting sun. "Forward scouts report a fortress nearby," she said. "If we could claim it, it would provide an excellent base of operations during our time here."

Theo surveyed the army force. The main army had remained behind at Skyhold, but they'd also welcomed in some Orlesian soldiers tired of the civil war. "Let's scout the keep and find out if we can take it," he said at last. "I can send Cole in with a couple other scouts," he decided. "Until then, let's find a halfway decent place to set up a camp and wait."

Cullen and Cassandra seemed to agree, so they rode on for another few hours under a hot sun. The grasses gave way entirely to rolling dunes and orange-toned rocky structures that reached for the sky. Theo squinted against the brightness, such a contrast after the overcast Exalted Plains. He'd never thought, or even hoped, to see a place like this.

The sun began to dip in the sky, so they stopped to set up camp. Theo handed his horse off to a squire and stood on the edge of the activity, surveying the horizon. He loosened his armor and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"The desert is freezing at night," Dorian said, approaching him. His normally perfect hair was soaked with sweat, and his mustache drooped a little bit. "And you know how I feel about the cold."

"Are you saying you forgive me for being stupid?" Theo asked. His heartbeat fluttered a bit. Ever since he'd thrown himself into the fray against the Venatori, Dorian had been a bit reserved. "I really am sorry, you know. I wasn't thinking. Well I was, but about protecting you."

"I know, and I suppose that's what's been on my mind," Dorian said, pushing his damp hair off his forehead. "You just threw yourself into it without thinking of yourself. I don't think anyone's ever done that for me before; and then when there was the possibility of you being hurt, or having your mind permanently damaged… it made me realize what I could lose. We don't do vulnerability very well in Tevinter," he explained. "If I've been distant it's because you make me feel things that I'm not accustomed to."

It was hot and sticky, but Theo wrapped his arms around Dorian anyway. "I feel like we both have a lot to learn about this sort of thing," he said.

"It is quite the learning curve," Dorian agreed. He pulled back and met Theo's eyes. "But if we are to take this keep, which is likely held by Venatori, can you please promise me to be more careful?"

"For you? Yes," Theo said.

Hunters had set out nearly as soon as they broke for camp, and as the sun set and the first stars blinked into the sky they came back with game. The fires were stoked and tents set up, and the temperature did begin to drop rapidly. Theo cleaned up the best he could and wrapped himself in a cloak. He ate, he drank, but there was nothing much else to do until the scouts came back with news, so he retreated to his tent.

"Awfully large for one person," Dorian said, joining him. He'd removed his armor and was dressed in a loose shirt and pants.

Theo could see the outline of his body through the sheer material and he wanted to see more than just an outline. He managed to keep his feelings in check—no small task—and shrugged. "You don't have to hint, you know. You can just ask to stay."

Dorian was staring at the ground. "I know."

Theo sighed. "Fine then. It'd make me happy if you stayed with me," he said, holding out his hand. Dorian took it after a moment and Theo led him to his cot, where he sat down and held Dorian to him. He kissed his neck, right where the collar of his shirt opened, and Dorian's breath hissed in.

Then Dorian was straddling him, kissing him like their lives depended on it, like neither of them had ever been kissed before. "Maker, Theo, you drive me to madness," he said, his breath hot in Theo's ear. Theo just kissed him harder, his lips trailing over his jaw, down his neck, across his exposed collarbone. The shirt was in the way. His fingers fumbled with the laces and Dorian obliged and pulled it over his head. Theo ran his hands along Dorian's sides and his thumbs brushed over Dorian's nipples as he kept kissing his neck.

Dorian gave a strangled gasp and his back arched slightly; Theo took it to mean he was enjoying it. Theo leaned back on the cot with Dorian on top of him. He gasped as Dorian's hand cupped his growing member through his breeches and began to stroke through the fabric. "Just… returning the favor," Theo said, hardly able to move from the sensations Dorian was causing him. He tried to undo the laces of his breeches, but Dorian stopped him with a hand over his.

Theo blinked and tried to catch his breath. Dorian sat back, the lamplight illuminating the planes of his chest. His hair was tousled, his cheeks slightly flushed. "We've talked about so many things that I hesitate to talk more," Dorian said at last.

Theo rested his hands on Dorian's hips, his fingers toying with the waistband of his pants. "Your timing could use some work," he joked. He understood Dorian's need to establish boundaries and understandings, but Maker's balls! He wanted to keep feeling Dorian's hands all over him.

Dorian smiled slightly. "I'm glad I'm able to please you," he said. "But I wonder, have you ever been with a man?" Theo blushed deeply at the personal question. "I thought so," Dorian said. "What about a woman?"

"If I said yes?" Theo asked, biting on his lip and looking away.

"Then you've been with a woman," Dorian said with a shrug. He rested a hand on Theo's cheek. "I won't lie. I'm experienced, and only with men. I don't wish to take advantage of your inexperience."

Theo closed his eyes. "Is it taking advantage if I want it?"

Dorian climbed off of him and rested on his side, his head propped on his hand. "Will you tell me about it?" he asked, rather than answer.

Theo felt his face burn all the way to the tips of his ears. He couldn't look at Dorian. He'd never even told his brother what had happened in that brothel; he'd been polite and noncommittal when Gavriel asked, with a lurid grin, how it went; Gave hadn't ever offered again—for which Theo was grateful. "It was my brother's idea," he said, and told Dorian what had happened. "I know he meant well, but…"

Dorian furrowed his brow. "And nothing between then and now?"

Theo laughed. "I was supposed to go to the Chantry; getting laid didn't matter, and there wasn't anyone in Ostwick quite… well, quite like you," he said, turning to finally look at Dorian.

Dorian rested his head on Theo's chest. "All the more reason for us to take this slowly. We have so much potential to hurt one another if we're not careful," he said, and the frightened edge in his voice gave Theo a pang. He would never try to hurt Dorian. He wrapped his arm around Dorian, who pulled the blankets up over them. "I never thought to care about anyone," he murmured into Theo's chest. "You must understand why this makes me apprehensive."

"I do," Theo said. He reached over to put out the lamp, bathing them in darkness. This was the first time they'd intentionally been in bed together, and having Dorian in his arms, in the dark, filled Theo with a fierce pride and deep joy. "I hope one day soon we don't feel the need for apprehension," he said.

He felt Dorian smile, the end of his mustache tickling his bare chest. "As do I."

* * *

><p>The reports confirmed that Griffon Wing Keep was occupied by Venatori. They were strong enemies, but like all Tevinters they had one major downfall: pride. They hadn't thought that a token Inquisition force, led by Cassandra, Dorian, and Iron Bull, would be able to defeat them and take the keep.<p>

But now Inquisition soldiers were pouring through the main gate, routing the rest of the keep and getting settled in their new outpost. Theo and Cullen directed the setup while Dorian and Cassandra sat in the dungeons and watched the Iron Bull work.

Initially Cassandra had demanded that they take no prisoners. "Kill everyone and send a message to the Venatori," she insisted, but now she watched with appreciation as they got a firsthand look at a Ben-Hassrath agent doing his job.

Dorian often forgot that the Bull was Ben-Hassrath these days. A warrior? Certainly. A Qunari? Yes. But not a spy. But it seemed that was just the way the Bull wanted it. "People never expect a Qunari," Bull said with a grin as he paced before the first of several Venatori prisoners, each bound with lyrium-infused shackles. Dorian knew from experience that those alone would be extremely painful. But a morbid curiosity kept him watching the Bull.

"Do you know anything about the Grey Wardens?" Bull asked the man.

The man spat on Bull's foot and swore in Tevene. Dorian chuckled. "I'm afraid you'll be saying worse than that by the end," he said. "The Seeker and I are in on a little secret about our big friend here. I'd suggest you talk."

"You are a traitor and a disgrace to the Imperium," the man snapped. "I await the day the Elder One rips your magic from your body and crushes you underfoot!"

Dorian sighed. "Bull?"

The Iron Bull stood before the man, his hulking form blocking out what he was doing; but the garbled screams coming from him were enough of a hint that it was unpleasant. "Our contact said the Grey Wardens were out here in the Western Approach," he said pleasantly. "Explain why, or I'll do it again."

"They followed us. We can help them. They will put an end to the Blights forever," the man sobbed. Whatever the Bull had done had been effective.

"_Vishante kaffas,_ stop talking!" another Venatori snapped, and Cassandra strolled over to him. He glared up at her. "The Seekers are through. You are the last of nothing!" She sighed and backhanded him across the face with her studded glove.

"Are all in Tevinter so arrogant?" she grumbled when she rejoined Dorian.

He chuckled. "No. Some are more so."

Bull wasn't getting much else out of the first Venatori, so he moved onto the one Cassandra had hit. "Do you have a leader? Someone with more information?" he asked. "Someone who was in charge of this outfit at the keep? Which is ours now, by the way," he added. "You've pretty much failed, so there's little point in trying to hold out."

"Never. You fucking oversized cow," he snapped.

Bull sighed. "It's Bull. The Iron Bull. I like the article. Makes me sound like a dangerous force, more than a person." And then he did something that made Dorian look away and swallow against the lump growing in his throat. The man was screaming, noises that sounded more fitting to an animal in the forest than any human. "A name."

Even Cassandra looked away. "He is effective," she murmured to Dorian. She looked stoic as always, but she winced when the man's screams intensified.

This went on for quite some time, Bull moving down the line of Venatori prisoners without hesitation. Dorian was pretty sure the first two were dead, and the third would be soon. But amid the screams and cries, at last someone shouted a name. "Eremond! We're acting under Eremond's orders!"

It was Dorian's turn to swear.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>many thanks to FenZev, Melysande, redrosemary, karebear, Mandimal, abbiebubble, olivebg, AgapeErosPhilia, Ioialoha, mille libri, Cynder Jenn, deagh, dr. kitten, Miss Lubberly, and Eureka234! I appreciate the feedback, the support, and the discussions so very much! I wish you all could have some idea beyond what I type :) As always thanks much to those following and favoriting!

These two have a lot of personal baggage to work through, but they're getting there!


	16. No More Walls

_Chapter 16: No More Walls_

Stroud and Hawke met up with the Inquisition forces at Griffon Wing Keep a day later. "We tracked the Venatori to an old tower built here specifically for blood sacrifices," Hawke said. She turned and spit as she said it. Theo made a mental note to always wear his boots when she was around.

They sat around a large table that had been set for a communal dinner, picking at the food here and there. The news Stroud brought was grim. "The Grey Warden mages are using the blood sacrifice of their warriors to bind demons. We watched it happen," he said, anguish in his voice. "I joined the Order to protect and to serve, and now my brethren slaughter one another."

"One of the assholes I questioned mentioned the name Eremond," Bull said. He was the only one who seemed able to maintain his appetite. "You seem in the know about these sorts," he said to Dorian.

"Livius Eremond," Dorian said with a sigh. "I had interactions with him while I lived in Minrathous. If the man isn't possessed by a Pride Demon, then I'm not sure how else to explain his attitude." He glanced at Bull. "Yes, I know. That describes most Tevinter Magisters. But if you'd ever met Eremond…"

Theo detected the chill in Dorian's voice. "What you're saying is that he's not like the ones we've encountered before. He's even more dangerous."

"Yes. Picture Alexius, if he'd not been quite so desperate."

Theo nodded. "So we find out what they're doing with this demon army, and where they're headed to next," he said, glancing around the table. Cassandra and Cullen nodded their agreement; Bull seemed grim, though that could be the aftermath of interrogating the prisoners. Theo had asked about it, but no one, even Dorian, would tell him what exactly Bull had done to get them to talk.

"It's possible they're heading to Adamant Fortress," Stroud said. "Hawke and I were discovered and overwhelmed before we could get details. We barely escaped," he said.

"Cullen, what do you know about Adamant?" Theo asked. He felt the tension tightening into a knot in his forehead. So much information; what was he to do with it all?

Cullen had some ideas, and Cassandra filled in with her knowledge as well. The more they told him the more Theo had the sinking feeling that they would not have enough forces. "Let's send word to Skyhold for reinforcements," he finally decided. "We have plenty of space at this keep and can get it up and running as an outpost." Plans were made to scout the Western Approach and the outlying areas around Adamant.

A knock sounded and a page peeked in. "Master Pavus, someone here to see you," he said before ducking out quickly, as if afraid of having interrupted the council in session.

Theo gave Dorian a quizzical look, but Dorian merely smiled as he took his leave. Theo would have to talk with him later. He had full confidence in Dorian's ability to take care of himself, but the fact that someone had come to visit with him, when they'd only been here in this keep for a couple days, was strange.

The Iron Bull caught Theo's concerned stare and gave him a nod before getting up and leaving as well. Dammit, Theo thought; he was really going to have to work on his facial expressions. The Inquisition wouldn't have any secrets if he kept giving it all away.

Soon Theo was left alone with Cassandra and Cullen. "You are doing well," Cassandra said, breaking the silence that had descended. "There is much to consider, but you're handling it well."

"Am I?" Theo asked with a ghost of a smile. He sank in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. He felt grubby and exhausted and clueless. "I wasn't made for any of this," he said with a rueful laugh.

"I don't think any of us were," Cullen said, sipping at his wine. "We're all doing the best we can under the circumstances. I think if your family could see you now they'd be quite proud of the job you're doing."

Theo tried to smile, but the thought of his family made him feel queasy. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion. "Thank you, Commander, it means a lot to hear that from you," he said.

Cassandra tapped her fingers on the table, deep in thought. "We captured this keep from under their upturned noses," she said. "We struck a blow they did not anticipate. They think the Inquisition weak and ineffectual," she said.

"They're not the only ones," Theo said.

"They're learning quickly," Cullen said.

Cassandra smiled, her gray-green eyes gleaming in the lamplight. "We don't have to start with force," she said. "What if we send for this Eremond and seek to speak with him?"

Theo sat up a bit more. Cullen was leaning forward, a slight smile on his face. "Bring him on our terms. Show him what we're made of. Yes, I like the idea. Inquisitor?" he asked, startling Theo to attention. "It's an excellent idea, but we would not proceed without your agreement."

It was just Theo, Cullen, and Cassandra in the room. They locked eyes on Theo, whose mind was spinning. He had the options of an all-out assault on Adamant Fortress, or the chance to ambush the Eremond on the Inquisition's terms. "We'll do it," he decided.

Cullen nodded. "Excellent. But we should still send for reinforcements. If the Venatori won't listen to our talks, we may just have to let the army do the talking for us." Cullen waved and a page brought materials for him to begin writing messages to send home to Skyhold. Cassandra poured a bit more wine and started in on her reports. The sun was starting to set when Theo came out of the hall and began scouting the ramparts for signs of the Iron Bull. He found the Qunari standing on a lookout platform, surveying the desert.

"From here, you almost can't tell that the place is populated with all sorts of weird shit," Bull said, leaning on a railing. "What's the scoop, Boss?"

Theo joined him. "Going to try talking first. I don't know that it will do any good, but at least they'll know we mean business."

The Bull nodded. "Never found talking with Vints to be very helpful," he said. He gave Theo a sidelong glance and a grin. "Though you seem to have some luck."

Theo's cheeks burned, but he also couldn't help but smile. "So I do. Did you happen to hear anything?" he asked.

Bull shrugged. "Nothing much. New merchant arrived, which is odd, this being the second day in the keep. Little Orlesian guy named Ponchard. Dorian was talking with him. Seemed to know him, but wasn't too happy with him. And he wasn't too happy about dragging his pampered Orlesian ass out into the desert only to be bitched at by a Vint," he added with a rumbling chuckle.

"Interesting," Theo murmured, staring out over the desert sunset. A huge shape in the sky caught his eye, and his breath caught in his throat. "Is that…"

Bull's eye followed Theo's gaze and a huge smile stretched over his scarred face. "Yep. A dragon. Ever seen one?" he asked, but Theo was speechless, staring at the beast in the sky. Bull sighed, sounding happier and more content than Theo had ever heard him. "Fucking amazing. What I would give to fight one up close." He muttered something in Qunlat.

Theo watched for another moment, having never hoped to see a dragon at all—let alone contemplate fighting one. He headed back for the courtyard, which was still bustling. In the gathering dark, and with so many people around, it was difficult for him to tell which one might be Ponchard. He sighed and made his way deeper into the keep, where the living quarters were. Most were sharing the large rooms, spreading out cots and bedrolls. Even at this early hour of the night people were sleeping, likely having taken guard duty the night before.

His room was at the end of the hall, and he'd nearly leapt with joy when he'd seen the adjoining room with a cut stone bathtub. "Shall I draw a bath, Your Worship?" a servant asked as he entered. Theo nodded and paced about his quarters while he waited for the stone tub to fill. He looked out over the rolling desert, now bathed in shades of blue and violet. Another servant came and lit the lamps and spread clean linens on the bed; it was basically like setting up camp, only within walls.

And with a bath.

Theo thanked the servants and they left only after he reassured them several times that he didn't need anything else. Once alone he shed his clothing and slipped into the tub. He closed his eyes and listened to the quiet. He'd so hated the quiet growing up; he'd run through the halls of the Trevelyan manor laughing and singing and crying just to break the serious silence of the stones. These days he got so little of it.

He heard the door creak open; he figured it was yet another servant, but he recognized the footfalls of Dorian's confident gait and felt at once elated and terrified that Dorian would see him like this. But that was ridiculous; they were together, and so close to truly becoming lovers. It was going to happen eventually. "In here," Theo called, resigned to the fact that he had no escape. Well, he did; but it would make things even more awkward trying.

"Well this is a sight," Dorian said. Theo didn't look; he hugged his knees to his chest. "I feel the need to pinch myself and be certain this isn't the Fade." He sat on the edge of the tub and trailed his fingers in the water. He wore the loose clothing he favored for camp, a set of trousers and a flowing silk shirt the color of deep copper. "You were in with the Commander for quite some time after I left," he ventured when Theo remained silent.

"There was much to discuss," Theo answered with a shrug. "Do we have to talk about it now, though?" he asked. "I think we need to make a rule that the bedroom is a work-free area." He chuckled.

"Mm. I like that rule," Dorian said. He knelt behind Theo and began rubbing his neck and shoulders, and in spite of his nerves Theo couldn't help but relax. He didn't realize just how tense he was. "You can relax with me, you know," Dorian teased, gently working a knot out of Theo's neck.

"The last person to see me like this was my mother. Twenty years ago," Theo said with a laugh. But Dorian did have a point, and his touch felt so good that he unclasped his hands and let his legs fall back in the water.

"Care to tell me more about your family?" Dorian asked.

"If you tell me about Ponchard."

Dorian's hands stopped. "It's nothing with which to concern yourself," he said at last.

Theo grabbed his hand. "A mysterious Orlesian shows up looking specifically for you when we've only been established here for a couple days? I'm quite concerned," he said, but he was smiling. "You can tell me," he added. "Or… I could pull you in here with me."

"Oh, I quite intend to join you," Dorian said and Theo could hear the smile in his voice.

"Fully clothed."

Dorian yanked his hand away. "This shirt is Tevinter silk," he said, sounding mildly offended. "It makes Orlesian silk look and feel like badly woven wool."

"Then take it off." Theo took a deep breath. "Join me. The water's lovely. Maker it's going to feel good to be really clean again," he added. He heard the rustling of clothing and then Dorian was climbing into the water with him. Theo watched the way he moved with a fluid grace, as comfortable in his skin as he was in his clothing. And from what Theo saw, Dorian had every reason to be confident and comfortable. "Tell me about Ponchard?" he asked again. Now that he could see Dorian, Theo saw how his expression fell when the name came up.

Dorian sighed and flicked water at Theo's face. "You always look so sweet and innocent. You lure me in with your charms and then I'm in a position where it's impossible to refuse you," he said with a half smile.

"_You_ always play so hard to get," Theo countered, splashing him back. "I wake up with you in bed with me, then you go days hardly saying a word, then we're in bed again…" He sighed. "I know you blame the whole Tevinter upbringing thing. But if you want me to be vulnerable enough to be naked in the water with you, it may be time for you to be fine with being vulnerable with me. Stop playing hard to get," he said.

Dorian sighed and sank lower in the water, as if he could escape Theo's pointed gaze. One foot absently stroked Theo's calf. "You're right," he said at last. He took a deep breath. "You give so much for me and you're so transparent with me. I've… I've not been a very good lover," he admitted, his face reddening. "_Fasta vass_ I'm not used to admitting when I'm in the wrong."

Theo caught his ankle under the water and gently rubbed at it. Dorian's eyelids fluttered and he tried to hide a ghost of a smile but failed. "If you need me to spell it out for you, I will," he offered. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you. I… care for you and like you as you are," he said, though words like 'care' and 'like' seemed somehow inadequate to describe how he felt. Yet he feared to voice the true depth of his feelings for fear of frightening Dorian. And to tell the truth, it scared him just a bit as well.

Dorian took his hand and squeezed. "In that case… I'm gotten," he said with a shrug and a shy smile Theo had never seen before. Dorian shifted and sat next to Theo. "I'd never intentionally hurt you," he said, kissing him. "I apologize if my selfish fears have done so."

"I know why you're scared because I am too," Theo said. "But… isn't this… aren't _we_ stronger than fear? There's so much out there to be scared of. Why add this to the list?"

Dorian swallowed. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. No more walls."

"No more walls," Theo agreed, draping his arm around Dorian's shoulders. "So… can you tell me why a random Orlesian merchant is here to see you?"

Dorian played with Theo's fingers, focusing on his hand rather than Theo himself. "When I escaped from my family I left Tevinter with very little. My father had already cut me off financially to try and coerce me into obedience, so I had hardly any coin to my name. I had to sell the one thing of value that I possessed." Theo had only seen him look so sad once before, and that was just after the confrontation with his father. "I had an amulet: a symbol of my birthright as the heir of House Pavus. I sold it," he said with a shrug. "I was young, I was desperate, and at the time I _wanted_ to be free of all that marked me as Halward's son," he said.

"So why do you want it back?" Theo asked.

"My father mentioned my lack of it when we spoke," Dorian said. "I realized that having it doesn't tie me to him if I don't want it to. I decided I wanted it back. But Monsieur Ponchard doesn't seem willing to part with it," he grumbled.

"I could talk to him," Theo suggested.

"Maker, no! Never!" Dorian snapped, pulling back and staring at Theo, looking almost horrified. "I promised myself I would not be in debt to you over this."

Theo sighed. "It wouldn't _be_ a debt, Dorian. It would be me doing something for you because I want to. Because I care about you," he said, and skimmed his hand over the surface of the water rather than look at Dorian.

Dorian took a deep breath and Theo thought he was about to say something, but he squeezed his eyes shut and slipped below the surface of the water. When he resurfaced the water streamed off of him. His hair was plastered to his head and he rubbed his eyes. "I appreciate your sentiments," he said finally. "You are good to me, truly. Now get over here and turn around. I wasn't finished rubbing your shoulders."

Nearly an hour later Dorian had started a fire in the hearth to help ward off the night chill, and Theo was wearing Dorian's Tevinter silk shirt and nothing else. He rolled over on the bed. "You're right. This shirt is fantastic. I'm glad I didn't have to ruin it," he said playfully.

"Me too. It looks lovely on you," Dorian said. He stretched out like a cat in the warm glow of the flames, wearing naught but his smallclothes. "You were right. It feels fantastic to finally be clean again. And to be in a proper room with you. With a door and everything."

Theo rested his head on Dorian's chest. "No chance of anyone walking in," he said.

"On what? Us cuddling?" Dorian joked, his hand creeping along Theo's side and coming to rest on his hip. Theo shivered involuntarily at Dorian's touch on his bare skin. He trailed his fingers over Dorian's chest. Dorian inhaled sharply; Theo shifted position and kissed Dorian, one hand absently teasing the waistband of Dorian's smallclothes. "Sure. Cuddling," Theo said with a grin. The only walls now were those of the keep; it was amazing, and Theo wanted to savor every moment of it.

It was going to be a long night, and Theo couldn't wait.

* * *

><p>It was past the noon hour when a horseman came back with news that Livius Eremond would come to speak with the Inquisition the day after next. "I think you should do the talking," Theo told Dorian. He sat in the shade stripping twigs for more arrows. He examined one critically and shaved a bit more off.<p>

"You're daft if you think that," Dorian said without looking up from what he was reading. "I have history with Eremond and none of it is pleasant."

Theo sighed. "You're more suited to this than I am. You're smarter. Well spoken. You have conviction," he said.

"And you think you lack intelligence, wit, and conviction?"

"I know I do," Theo said. "Sometimes I wish I could be more like you," he confessed.

Dorian laughed. "More like me? If you were more like me you'd be insufferable and I don't think I could stand you. Maker knows how I stand myself most days." Theo tried to smile, but his hands, working with his knife and the wood, gave away his anxieties. "What you need to do is be completely certain of yourself, even if you're not. We Tevinters can _smell_ weakness," he said. He closed his book and focused on Theo. "You must not defer to anyone. You are the Inquisitor, and the voice of authority."

Theo nodded. "This is why I need you," he said with a smile. "You tell me what I need to hear."

"You don't deserve any less," Dorian said, lightly squeezing his knee. It was a simple, small gesture of affection, but the fact that Dorian was growing increasingly comfortable with being public about their relationship meant a great deal to Theo. "It's quite likely that my presence at this meeting with Eremond could prove damaging to your authority," he said after a moment of thought.

The idea of going into this meeting without Dorian by his side made Theo feel ill; he'd begun relying on Dorian's confidence—not just the mage's confidence in himself, but also his confidence in Theo as the Inquisitor. "I'll miss you," Theo said at last. "But I trust you. You know Eremond better than any of us."

The rest of the day Theo spent practicing being confident. He carried himself straight and tall, shoulders back the way Dorian told him—more like snapped at him whenever he caught Theo slumping. He gave subtle nods of greeting and met peoples' eyes whenever he could. "You look ridiculous, Boss," Iron Bull said with a chuckle as Theo passed by. For a fraction of a moment Theo nearly reverted to his usual state, but thought it could be a test of his resolve, so he only held himself taller and stiffer.

He observed Cassandra in private, the way she carried herself almost haughtily, self-assured of her abilities and faith. The Iron Bull looked relaxed, but always seemed ready to spring into action. Cullen was secure in his knowledge as a commander, Dorian comfortable with his grasp of magic and self-awareness.

They all had the one thing Theo lacked: years of experience.

For a moment he wanted to wallow in his self-pity, but if he even tried someone would smack sense into him. No, he didn't have experience, but experience was not something freely given, nor acquired overnight. He would have to rely on the few months that he had beneath his belt. It would have to be enough.

Even though they'd established the bedroom as a work-free area, Dorian still coached Theo on what to expect the following day. "Eremond is loud, grandiose, and overblown," he said as Theo stared at the ceiling, his stomach writhing. "He loves the sound of his own voice. If you get him talking he may go on all day."

"So how do I stop him from talking?" Theo asked.

"Short of a silencing spell?" Dorian asked with a laugh. "Do your own talking. Say what you want from him, and don't back down."

Theo rolled over and draped an arm over Dorian's torso. "I'm glad you're here with me. I'm not sure what I'd do otherwise," he said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Suffer?" Dorian asked. He held Theo close and kissed him deeply. He twined his fingers in Theo's dark hair and stared into his eyes; they were so close Theo could see the tiny gold flecks in the gray. "In all seriousness, you have what it takes within you. You need to shed the insecurities of your past."

"You make it sound simple," Theo said, closing his eyes.

Dorian stroked his hair. "I know from experience that it is far from simple. But it's something you must do. I can only do so much to help you, Theo," he said.

"I know," Theo told him. He nestled himself against Dorian's chest and focused on his warmth, the beat of his heart, the sound of this breathing. He didn't know if Dorian was able to cast a sleeping spell, but something about being so close to him, and feeling so safe was more powerful than his anxieties and he drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>I'm pleased people liked Bull doing Ben-Hassrath things in the last chapter! He may have to do more. Thank you followers, recent and long-term! Thank you Melysande, Mandimal, AgapeErosPhilia, Bathorybabe, FenZev, mille libri, karebear, abbiebubble, Eureka234, dr. kitten, Cynder Jenn, Miss Lubberly, and deagh! Thanks for the thoughtful reviews and for the great conversations, some of which led to some needed changes in earlier drafts of chapter 16. We're closing in on Adamant... Really, I promise!


	17. Meeting the Magister

_Chapter 17: Meeting the Magister_

The sun was approaching its apex in the sky when a lookout sounded the horn: Livius Eremond was approaching, at the head of a column of Grey Wardens. Theo wanted to see, to have a look at what he was up against; but he remained sitting on his shaded dais, which had been set up to approximate his judgment seat at Skyhold. Cassandra and Cullen stood on either side of him, and The Iron Bull was busily stalking the battlements and gathering information to send to them.

"He wants to bring the Wardens in," one of the runners breathlessly told Theo.

"The answer is no," Theo said decisively without even looking to Cassandra or Cullen for guidance. Having a column of possessed Grey Wardens outside the keep was bad enough; he didn't dare allow them in. The runner headed off, and returned a few moments later, this time asking if Eremond could at least bring up Warden Commander Clarel with him. Theo glanced at Stroud, who stood nearby. "What can you tell me about Clarel?" he asked.

"She is the Warden Commander of Orlais," he said. "She is a mage. When she allied with the Venatori and began researching the binding rituals, I tried to have her see reason, but by then she was blinded by fear. She would have had me killed had I not run," he said grimly.

Theo nodded and then looked to Cullen and Cassandra. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I think it's a good thing Cassandra is here," Cullen said grimly. "My templar abilities are waning more quickly each day, but her Seeker abilities are still strong."

"Let the Warden Commander come," Cassandra agreed. "If she attempts anything I will simply set the lyrium within her ablaze." She chuckled at Theo's horrified expression. "I forget that you still have much to learn, Inquisitor," she said, patting the hilt of her sword. "Ideally, it will not come to that; perhaps she will see reason beyond the madness this Venatori has instilled in her."

Theo nodded. "I will allow it. Only the Enchanter and the Warden Commander," he said, and the runner took off again. "Holy shit, I am not ready for this," he murmured.

"Stop it," Cassandra snapped. She lightly slapped the back of Theo's head. "You _are_ ready for this, and you _will_ show it. You cannot show weakness to this man. He will prey upon it," she said. "Do not rise when he approaches."

Theo rubbed his head. "Why didn't you coach me like this yesterday?" he grumbled.

"Because you'd over think it," she told him. "Now you have to _do_ it."

A scout, who'd taken on the role of court crier, came forward before Theo could even process what any of it meant. "Presenting Enchanter Livius Eremond of Vyrantium, and Clarel, Warden Commander of Orlais," he said, and Theo remained seated, his heart thudding hard in his chest as the two appeared.

Eremond had strong facial lines and haughty, glaring dark eyes. He sneered, barely concealing his contempt for the proceedings, and Theo had to fight to remain sitting straight and expressionless. Next to Eremond, Clarel tried to look commanding but she just looked nervous. Her hand kept clenching about her staff and her eyes flicked about warily.

"You stand in the presence of His Worship, Lord Inquisitor Theodane Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste," the crier announced. "Touched by the Fade, marked by Holy Andraste herself."

Eremond's snort of derision did nothing to ease Theo's embarrassment. But Cullen and Cassandra were there for him; Dorian was somewhere in the keep, watching, as he'd promised; and Bull had set up a perimeter. And they all believed in him. He took a deep breath. "Welcome, Enchanter Eremond," he said.

Eremond did laugh then. "Please. Just get to the point of these ridiculous proceedings."

It was like Theo's father all over again. Any time Theo tried to tell Bann Trevelyan anything the man just glared at him as if he were wasting precious time, leaving Theo to slink off, dejected and embarrassed.

But Eremond was not his father. And now he had a support network that was beginning to stretch across Thedas. "If you think it's ridiculous, then why did you even agree to meet?" Theo asked. Cassandra inhaled sharply next to him. He was thankful for Eremond's presence, if just to keep her from slapping the back of his head again.

"To see this _Herald of Andraste_ with my own eyes, of course," Eremond said. "And I see he's no more than a boy playing games he does not understand."

"I see," Theo said, keeping level-headed. No sense getting angry, when what Eremond said was true. _Don't let him talk too much,_ Dorian had said. There was only one thing Theo knew would render Eremond speechless. "I suppose you also wanted to see this." He held up his left hand, and with a little focus, his palm glowed a brighter green. Eremond's dark eyes widened, and even Clarel looked a bit more interested. "Funny how one little mark can tip the scales, isn't it."

Eremond was tense, like a hunting hound on a lead, just waiting to be let loose so he could spring forward. "What do you want, Inquisitor?" he asked, eyes still locked on Theo's palm.

"Release the Grey Wardens," Theo said.

"Inquisitor. What leads you to believe that the Wardens _want_ to be released?" Clarel asked. She cocked her head to the side. Theo was speechless, and a sad smile touched Clarel's features. "The Enchanter offered us a way to stop the Blights forever. You are not a Warden, so you would not understand what that means."

"By raising a demon army built on the blood of our brethren," Stroud said, when Theo still had no idea what to say.

"In peace, vigilance," she snapped. "We are being vigilant by taking this opportunity to prevent future Blights! In war, victory; we will be victorious over the Blight once and for all. And in death, sacrifice. You took the same vows, Stroud," she said, near tears. "Yes. I have watched our brethren fall. I have even held the sacrificial knife. And nearly every man or woman to die for this cause believes their death will hold meaning and serve a higher purpose."

Always the higher purpose. Theo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose; he felt a headache coming on. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the stress. "This enchanter serves Corypheus," he said at last. "One of those responsible for starting the Blights and necessitating the Grey Wardens in the first place. And you would serve him?"

Clarel shifted, looking up, down, anywhere but at Theo or Eremond. "The past cannot be changed," she said at last. "But the future is unwritten."

"See? The Warden Commander has made her decision," Eremond said. "I knew it was foolish to come. You would be wise to abandon this course, Inquisitor," Eremond said. "The Elder One _will_ rule all. He _will_ reward his faithful, and those who oppose him? You'll hope you're dead first." He turned his back on Theo and stormed away, his hard-heeled boots clicking on the stones. "_Clarel!"_ he bellowed, imperious voice echoing in the keep. Theo winced; so did Clarel, who shook her head and followed, shoulders slumped.

Theo waited in silence until eventually Bull came down from the ramparts. "Asshole's gone," he said. "Want me to follow him and pick him off? No one ever suspects the Qunari," he added with a grin and a dangerous look in his single eye.

Theo shook his head. Now that the Magister was gone he slumped in his seat, his bones turned to jelly. Cassandra said something in Nevarran, likely a swear, and kicked a nearby crate. Cullen paced. "The worst part is Clarel truly believes this is the right thing," Theo said at last. "Killing her own men, men who trust her…" He glanced at Cullen and Bull. "If I ever start asking you to perform or become ritualistic sacrifices, do me a favor and kill me?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"What do we do now, Boss?" Bull asked.

"Now, I go lie down and pretend this was a dream," Theo said. "And when I wake up and realize it wasn't, we start planning our next move."

They dispatched, Cullen to the training yard in spite of his evident weariness; and Cassandra to the rookery to send Leliana and Josephine an update. Bull went back up to the ramparts as he'd been doing the last few days, hoping to spy the dragon again. Theo rubbed his throbbing temples and made his way through the bustling courtyard.

"My Lord Inquisitor?"

Theo blinked away the tension and put on the best pleasant smile he could muster. "Yes?" he asked, looking around and catching sight of a thin, balding man who wore a shiny gold mask even in the heat of the afternoon sun.

"Forgive me, but my name is Ponchard. I was told to come here by a Lady Leliana. I was hoping I might be dismissed if I'm of no service to you?" he asked with a half bow and a ridiculous wave of his hands.

Ponchard. Theo rifled through his memories. "Oh, Ponchard," he said at last. "Yes. I'm sorry for the confusion. It seems that a close friend of mine had need of your service," he said.

The man probably paled beneath his mask. "The Magister. Yes, we spoke, but he could not give me what I desired, so our business accord dissolved."

"His amulet," Theo said, and Ponchard looked away. "You're not even Tevinter. Why would you want to keep it?"

"It is a symbol of a well-connected house in Tevinter," Ponchard explained. "It allows me to do business in the house's name. Without it, I'm just another Orlesian merchant. Without it, I have no chance of being admitted to the League de Celestine," the little man said, wringing his hands. "I told Monsieur Pavus as much, but he lacks the influence to get me in. Especially without his birthright. We are at an impasse."

Theo stared at him. "That's all you want. To get into this league."

"Not just any league! The League de Celestine is—"

Theo held up his hand. "What do you need? Just a letter from me, endorsing you?"

Ponchard bowed again. "That would be enough, but even more than I could ever hope for…"

Theo shook his head. "Just stop. If that's all you need, I'll do it. So long as you give me Monsieur Pavus's amulet." Ponchard stared at Theo for a long moment, but Theo had just faced down an arrogant Magister and the Orlesian Warden Commander, both of whom could have easily vaporized him. Ponchard had nothing. "I'll write it now. I'll send a raven to Val Royeaux. You can come to the rookery and watch."

"I would appreciate that very much, Your Worship," Ponchard said. "Though you must understand that I cannot part with something so valuable until I have something of equal or greater value guaranteed in return. The League may say no, in which case the amulet is still of value to me. Were I to give it to you… I'd be lost. I must protect my business interests, you see," he said.

Theo sighed and resisted the urge to kick Ponchard in the shins. "I understand," he said, and he really did; he was just so tired of all this wheedling and deal-making. "I'll still write that letter now."

So even though all Theo wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep until all of this was over, he still trudged up to the makeshift rookery with Ponchard in tow. Cassandra was still writing and gave him a look, eyebrow raised, but Theo just shook his head. He wrote his missive with Ponchard looking over his shoulder, making certain it said what was necessary. Theo had the raven keeper choose the best bird, and rolled the message about its leg, and then they both watched as it flew east.

"I cannot thank you enough for this, Inquisitor," Ponchard said, about to bow again, but Theo stopped him. "I'm certain the League will accept your recommendation," he said.

"I hope so. I'd like for Master Pavus to have his amulet as quickly as possible," Theo said, but Ponchard merely smiled and headed out of the rookery without another word.

"You are not a business man," Cassandra observed, and Theo winced. But she was smiling. "I prefer to let my blade to my talking; you'll get no judgment from me," she said with a laugh.

Theo chuckled as well. "So long as you don't let your blade do the talking with me," he teased and headed to his room, where he collapsed on the bed and promptly fell asleep.

When he woke it was dusk and Dorian was sitting next to him, reading. "Good morning," Dorian teased, setting the book on his lap. "You're still alive and still human, so it seems the meeting with Eremond didn't go terribly?"

Theo blinked the sleepy grit from his eyes and sat up, yawning. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you were sound asleep, and clearly you needed the rest," Dorian said, resting a hand on Theo's back. "So?"

Theo smiled and shook his head. "Bedroom. Work-free area," he said, climbing out of bed. He headed to the ewer and splashed some cool water on his face and ran his hand through his hair. Dorian joined him, handing him a comb and watching while Theo tried to make his hair behave. "Not all of us are as blessed with perfect hair, you know," Theo said, at last setting down the comb.

"It is a burden, that I'll admit," Dorian said with a sigh that made Theo laugh.

They headed out to the mess hall. Even in the few days they'd been here the Inqusition scouts and suppliers had been busy, and coupled with the supplies that had been there with the Venatori occupation, the keep was up and running smoothly as if it had been an Inquisition outpost for months.

Theo got a plate of food, and though he didn't think he was hungry, as soon as he sat down he was devouring everything. "Easy, Boss," Bull said, joining them. "Eating like that in this heat? You'll be hugging a bucket all night."

"I'm sure you have experience?" Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow, and Bull just laughed.

Cullen sat down a few minutes later, shaking his head when Theo asked if he'd eaten. "I'm having trouble with my appetite," he said. "A side effect of… things," he said, and Theo nodded while Bull and Dorian pretended not to be listening. "I'll keep some bread with me in the event that I do get hungry," he added.

Theo and Cullen related the meeting with Eremond to Dorian and Bull, and Cassandra joined them. "Clarel is a coward," she snapped, stabbing into her food with a fork.

"She's desperate," Cullen said. "I was in Ferelden during the fifth Blight. It was awful," he said with a shudder. "If I was in her position, I can't deny that I would not seriously consider an offer to stop them for good."

"She's scared; we all are," Stroud said, sitting down. "But she is letting her fear dictate her actions. That is not the Grey Warden way."

Cassandra made a disgusted sound and turned her attention to eating, rather than arguing.

"We can't let this continue, obviously," Theo said, pushing around the bits left on his plate. "I know Clarel thinks she's right, but… nothing good can come of a demon army, even with the best intentions."

"Demon army? _Vishante kaffas,_ I knew Eremond was arrogant, but this… it's too much," Dorian said, taking a swig of wine.

They were all silent for a bit while the noise of the mess hall went on around them. "Cullen," Theo asked at last. "How long until the rest of the army arrives?"

"Maybe a week? What are you thinking?" the Commander asked.

"I offered to talk with Eremond; he didn't want to listen, let alone talk. Time to say something in a language he can't ignore."

"You're suggesting…"

"We lay siege to Adamant Fortress," Theo said grimly. "I won't let him continue taking advantage of the Wardens this way." He looked around the table at his closest friends and advisors. "Are you with me?" he asked softly.

"Fuck yeah," Bull said, slamming his big fist on the table and shaking everybody's dishes.

"I serve the Inquisition and the Inquisitor," Cassandra said with a nod.

"I'm with you, Inquisitor," Cullen added in a soft voice, though Theo could see the pained look on his face at the thought of how many soldiers they would likely lose in this.

Dorian stared at Theo, his gray eyes filled with worry. "I cannot say if this is good counsel or ill," he said at last. "But for good _or_ ill, I stand with you. Always," he said in a tone that said far more than even his words would.

Theo nodded. "Thank you. All of you. I can't do any of this without you." Even though he'd taken a long rest that afternoon, he was still tired and trembled at the thought of what he was about to do. "I suggest we all rest well tonight. At sunup we begin preparations for battle."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Many thanks to AgapeErosPhilipa, Bathorybabe, karebear, redrosemary, mille libri, Ioialoa, Cynder Jenn, abbiebubble, Eureka234, olivebg, deagh, and dr. kitten for reviewing, and to all who are following and reading along. I appreciate it very much; I apologize for the lack of fluff in this chapter, but it's as much Theo's growth story as a romance, and I will make up for it in the next chapter! Thanks again everyone! I appreciate everything!


	18. Battlefields

_Chapter 18: Battlefields_

The days were long but kept getting longer; it seemed that the more they accomplished, the more there was to do. Theo wondered how Cullen was keeping everything straight in his mind as he barked orders and made lists. Theo had never gone to war before and was completely out of his element, though he tried. Mostly he just stayed out of the way and waited for Cullen's almost hourly reports while Dorian hovered nearby, worried.

"I'm not going to disappear on you," Theo finally said, glancing up from fletching a batch of arrows. Cullen assured him that the Inquisition supply was ample, but Theo found that making arrows kept him from going crazy during the hours of preparation he didn't understand. He set his work aside and held out a hand to Dorian.

Dorian took Theo's hand and sat down next to him. "Any fighting we've done has been nothing more than skirmishes," he said. "But laying siege to Adamant? That is an act of war."

Theo sighed. "I know," he said.

Dorian squeezed his hand. "Are you afraid?"

"Terrified." Theo felt the warmth of Dorian's hand around his and drew strength from his touch. "But I don't see any other way," he said at last. "So long as the Wardens follow Eremond and are enslaved to Corypheus, Thedas is in danger. We break their hold on the Wardens, we deal a blow that makes an impact."

Dorian stared at Theo with a critical eye and a slight smile. Theo squirmed a bit, but Dorian held fast to his hand. "You speak as one with experience," he said. He held up his hand to stop Theo's protests. "I know you will say you have none; but I can honestly say that the 'you' of a few months back would never have the stones to take this course of action. I'm proud of you," he said.

Theo blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Absolutely. So long as you don't pull any more idiot moves and get yourself hurt again, I will continue to feel so," Dorian said with a grin and another squeeze of his hand.

"Lord Inquisitor?" a messenger asked, approaching. The young woman bowed low. "Message for you."

"Inquisition business calls," Theo said with a smile, giving Dorian a peck on his cheek before rising and heading to the courtyard, unrolling the message as he went. His insides were buzzing like a hive of bees. The message was from the League de Celestine. Dorian would have his amulet back by this evening. Theo could hardly wait to see the expression on his face.

In the courtyard merchants were busily inventorying their wares. Tension was thick in the air; the low murmur of the merchant court sounded louder than usual. Everyone, it seemed, was apprehensive about the planned siege. Theo looked around until he found Monsieur Ponchard fanning himself in the shade. He still wore his mask; all his sweating had probably glued it to his face. "Your Worship!" the little man said, leaping up and bowing. "I hope you've brought good news?"

"Better news for you than for anyone else around here," Theo said pointedly, glancing around at the worried merchants and soldiers. "The League accepted your membership."

Ponchard looked tense enough to explode, but all Theo wanted was Dorian's amulet. He needed good news. Suddenly Ponchard had grabbed Theo's right hand and was plastering it with a kiss. "My lord Inquisitor, you have no idea what this means! I can't thank you enough!"

Theo wrenched his arm away and tried to surreptitiously wipe it on his breeches. "Um… just giving me the Tevinter amulet should be thanks enough," he said. "And if you want to leave you may. Though if you care to stay I'm sure the Inquisition could use well-connected merchants," he found himself saying through a bright, fake smile while he inwardly cursed himself.

In the end Ponchard did elect to leave, with many a ridiculous bow and attempts to plaster Theo's hand with kisses of gratitude. Theo finally waved him off and headed for his room.

Another report from Cullen awaited him. The main army force was nearing; maybe another day out. They'd be tired, but the Inquisition could waste no time in dealing with Eremond. Yet one more concern Theo added to his list. But he clutched at the small velvet bag holding Dorian's amulet and smiled. He was determined to have some happiness in all of this.

* * *

><p>"You're up to something." Dorian stood in front of the closed door, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow quirked up. "And don't give me that innocent look; you're a terrible liar," he said, though he was smiling.<p>

Theo quelled the fluttering feeling in his insides. "I… well, I have something for you," he said, and handed the small package to Dorian. He watched with anticipation as Dorian unwrapped the velvet pouch. His jaw tightened and his lips pressed into a bloodless line as he stared into his hands. "Is it the wrong one?" Theo asked after a long silence.

"No. It's mine," Dorian said softly. "But… I didn't want this," he said with a sigh.

"You didn't want your birthright back?" Theo asked, confused. His stomach tightened and he felt a chill tingle through him.

"I didn't want you to get it for me," Dorian said. His voice was tense, as if trying to keep from snapping. "It's my amulet. It was my youthful stupidity that made me part with it to begin with, so it was my responsibility to get it back. And now I'm indebted to you, which is not what I wanted." He turned away and ran a hand over his hair.

"You're not indebted to me," Theo said, trying to stay calm and reasonable. "I did it as a gift. Because of how I feel."

Dorian sighed. "And that's the problem," he said softly.

"This… is a problem?" Theo asked as the icy hand of his nerves clenched his insides more tightly. He took a tentative step closer to Dorian, overcoming his instinct to shy away.

"When Ponchard gets to Val Royeaux and starts bragging about how he helped the Inquisitor, and when it gets around that you got my amulet back when I could not do it for myself? It makes me look like an opportunist. Like I'm using you," Dorian said. He stared at the pile of velvet in his hands.

"You're not," Theo said. "Dorian, look at me," he said softly, and Dorian glanced up through his thick lashes. "I will swear before the Maker himself that I did this for you because I wanted to. Because I…" He trailed off and it was his turn to look down.

Dorian sat on the bed and pulled Theo down with him. "There's always a price in Tevinter," he said. "Always a string attached; a condition to be met. People don't do things for others just because," he said. "I know I'm an ass, but I'm trying." He kissed Theo; his lips were warm and soft and the feel of it made Theo tremble.

"You may be an ass, but you're my ass," Theo said, lying back against the pillows and smiling up at Dorian. A pang shot through his chest when he recalled Cullen's message. They'd be ready to march on Adamant as soon as the day after tomorrow. Of course he worried about the imminent loss of life and damage to the Inquisition's forces. Of course he knew he could die, causing the Inquisition to fail only after its first major mission.

Of course he stood to lose Dorian.

It was a curious balance of feelings, and it was too hard for Theo to even think about prioritizing. He knew how he _should_ feel, but it didn't line up with how he _did_ feel.

Dorian reclined beside him and Theo curled up against him. Dorian trailed his fingers over Theo's collarbone. He shivered and said nothing, just closed his eyes and enjoyed Dorian's touch. It was like each fingertip had a tiny burst of electrical magic in it that set all of his hairs on end. The light in the room was fading, and they were probably beginning to serve dinner in the mess hall; Cullen would want to brief him and Cassandra would have messages from Skyhold. He sighed.

"Something wrong?" Dorian asked.

"Everything," Theo said, unconsciously fiddling with the buckles and ties of Dorian's shirt.

"And you think sleeping with me will change that?"

Dorian's suggestion sent a rush through Theo and everything within him stirred with excitement even in the midst of all his concerns. "Not as a distraction," Theo insisted. "I just… you want to?" He asked, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. There was no way Dorian could miss the tension in the rest of him, though.

Dorian laughed softly and rolled over so he was facing Theo. "One or both of us could die in less than two days. Either way I'd regret not properly bedding you," Dorian said in a low voice. His deft fingers slowly unlaced the front of Theo's shirt, and the brush of his electric touch sent stirrings into Theo's groin that were likely to drive him mad. "The answer is yes, I want to."

Theo pulled his shirt off and then rolled onto his back, pulling Dorian down on top of him and kissing him long and deep. Dorian's shirt was in the way; Dorian struggled to pull it off while Theo's mouth explored his lips, his neck, his chest. Theo arched his back and groaned when Dorian's hand found his member, hard and straining, and began to caress through his breeches.

Theo didn't know how they both ended up naked and twisted in the bed sheets, all hot hands and mouths and no words in the gathering dark. Theo pressed against Dorian's body, as if he couldn't get close enough. Dorian trailed kisses down his neck, one arm wrapped around Theo's torso and his other hand caressing Theo's thigh. Theo ran his fingers through Dorian's silky dark hair and ran a hand over Dorian's back, down over his hip, and rested on his buttock, delighting in the feeling of warm skin beneath his palm.

He barely felt the chill of the night creeping in; Dorian radiated heat, as if passion released his magic, making him unable to keep control over his mana. Of course that was ridiculous; Dorian was nothing if not controlled. Most would worry about being so vulnerable with a mage, but Theo realized that he trusted Dorian completely. In fact, he rarely ever thought about Dorian as being a mage. He was just Dorian.

And Theo loved him for it.

Dorian left a trail of kisses down Theo's chest and stomach. He ran his hands down Theo's sides and over his hips and thighs and Theo closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Then his eyes snapped open and he arched his back as new sensations overwhelmed him. He gasped; Dorian could do more with his mouth than just kiss, and Theo felt himself getting dangerously close to the edge.

Dorian paused in his ministrations and looked up at Theo, smiling. "I take it you're pleased?" he teased, lightly dragging his fingers over the inside of Theo's thigh.

"Maker's breath, Dorian," Theo breathed, clutching at the sheets and trying to stop the shuddering sensation he felt all over. "Why did you stop?"

Dorian chuckled. "To allow you time to relax. I want you to enjoy this."

"I'm enjoying it," Theo assured him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing away the tension in his limbs and trying to relax the knot in his torso, just below his stomach.

"You like playing with fire," Dorian murmured. His eyes were narrowed and mischievous and his hand was back to stroking Theo's cock with infuriatingly casual caresses. "Are you ready to do more than play?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Theo breathed, reaching a hand for Dorian. The mage took it, intertwining their fingers. "I've… never done anything like this, but…"

Dorian kissed Theo's hand. "I promise to be gentle. Besides, you have a battle to fight. I could hardly explain to Commander Cullen why you're unable to move," he said with a grin, and Theo flushed deeply, his face burning all the way up to his ears. "Besides," Dorian said, releasing Theo's hand and momentarily getting up to get something. "Assuming we both survive there will be time for all of that later."

The warmth that flooded Theo was different from the embarrassment he'd had a moment ago. _Later_. Dorian meant to continue this, and the thought made the impending battle at Adamant easier to bear.

Dorian returned, holding a small bottle. He nudged Theo, who rolled over onto his stomach. Some nights Dorian would rub his sore neck and shoulders, which is what he expected. But Dorian's hand ran over Theo's backside and he tensed momentarily. But this was Dorian. He trusted him. Loved him, even. If they survived Adamant, he might actually even tell him that.

Dorian was gentle as his oiled fingers worked at Theo in ways he'd never imagined. His cock stirred beneath him and he was clutching the sheets so hard his fingers were getting sore. He squirmed and groaned and his breathing came in hitching gasps. Then he was on his knees, and Dorian's arms were around him and his breath was hot on Theo's back. Theo braced himself on one hand and clutched Dorian's hand to his chest as his heart pounded.

There was nothing else in those moments. Dorian was in him and around him and was everything.

* * *

><p>When Theo opened his eyes a thin sliver of moon provided a touch of light: just enough for him to see Dorian's profile. His hair was still a mess, and he was staring into the darkness. He had an arm wrapped around Theo, holding him close, and had pulled the sheets over them. Theo felt the night chill and snuggled as close to Dorian as he could get.<p>

Dorian chuckled quietly. "Did I tire you out that badly?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Theo said sheepishly.

"Don't be," Dorian told him, squeezing his arm gently. "I found it rather endearing. It's not often I have the opportunity to give someone else such pleasure that they fall asleep in my arms. Especially someone so dear to me." His voice was soft, his touch softer. "I want to do this so much more often," he confessed.

Theo rarely heard Dorian so on the edge of breaking, and the tone was worrisome. He leaned up on one elbow. "We can," he said simply, trying to meet Dorian's gaze in the dark. He reached out and ran his hand over Dorian's cheek.

Dorian sighed and held Theo's hand to him. "I like you, which you likely know, but more than is probably wise." His breath shuddered a bit. "At home sex between men is only about pleasure; one would be a fool to hope that it could be anything more."

"This _is_ more, Dorian. And you're not back in Tevinter," Theo said firmly. "Besides, if you're a fool, then so am I for falling for you."

Dorian sighed, but Theo felt him smile. "Fools together, then," he said at last.

Theo settled back and this time it was his turn to hold Dorian. He was exhausted and spent, but happier, more content, than he'd ever felt, even though he knew he could die within the next two days.

* * *

><p>The sky was thick with smoke already when Theo rode to the front lines before the gates of Adamant Fortress. Trebuchets fired balls of fire at the ramparts, and a team of brontos was hauling forth a massive battering ram. Theo's heart stuck in his throat as the smell of burning oil and the sounds of battle assaulted his senses. Sweat trickled down his face, and his armor felt too tight, too hot.<p>

"Adamant is an old fortress," Cullen told him when he approached. "It won't stand long against our modern weaponry," he said, confident, as if the rush of battle overcame how tired he probably was.

Theo looked up at the smoky sky and squinted. "We're going in there," he said quietly.

"Yes," Cullen said. "The Inquisition stands behind you, Theodane."

Theo took a deep breath. "Break it down," he ordered. "There's no going back. We're putting a stumbling block in Corypheus's path today," he said. He pulled back and let through several burly soldiers who manned the battering ram. They began heaving and the ram crunched into the thick, heavy doors.

Dorian approached and rested a hand on Theo's shoulder. "Whatever happens…" he began, but didn't finish—either he could not, or he simply would not. Neither of them spoke; they stood watching the huge ram crunch into the doors again and again while there were shouts and screams around them. A faint violet glow emanated from the head of Dorian's staff: with so much death about, his necromancy skills were heightened.

_I am the Inquisitor,_ Theo told himself as the doors splintered beneath the ram. The men pulled back for one more merciless thrust. _I will end this,_ he thought, even as his stomach twisted inside of him.

At last the doors gave way and Theo strode toward them, followed by Cullen, Dorian, Cassandra, Iron Bull, and a regiment of soldiers. Bull laughed, loud and rumbling, and began swinging his maul at the Grey Warden resistance that tried to intercept Theo's party. Those that avoided Bull's strikes fell to Dorian's spells.

Stroud and Hawke brought up the rear and joined them in the main bailey. Hawke was grim-faced and the ground seemed to shake ever so slightly whenever she took a step. It was curious and disconcerting. Stroud's face was haggard, his eyes tired and sorrowful as he surveyed the bodies of dead Wardens littering the ground. "We must stop this," he said and his voice cracked. "This is not what we were meant to become."

Theo shook his head. "We're going to put an end to it today. The Wardens deserve more than Corypheus's influence," he said. He'd only been a teenager when the Blight happened in Ferelden, but had heard the stories of the Grey Wardens and how the Warden King and his queen had united a country and ended the Blight. That's what Grey Wardens did. They paid the price so others wouldn't have to.

Under the influence of Eremond and his master, they'd become part of the price the rest of Thedas was paying.

The Inquisition soldiers fanned out and blazed a trail for Theo and his companions. "Orders?" Cullen asked.

"Find Eremond. If we have to kill him, we kill him," Theo said. "And then we find Clarel and slap some sense into her. After that, I wouldn't mind going back to Skyhold and sleeping for a few days," he added with a grin.

"You know it won't be that easy," Cullen said with his own smile.

"I'm trying to be an optimist," Theo said with a shrug. It would be anything _but_ easy. He fully anticipated dying today. But he kept smiling, keeping his face a stony mask and his steps sure as he followed the forward guard. They met more resistance the higher up they traversed, which, while irritating, was a good sign as far as Theo was concerned. He kept nocking arrows and firing at resistance; he had to block out their blue and grey uniforms and tell himself that as of now, they were the enemy.

The forward guard paused before a gate. "Cullen. Go get your men on the ramparts," Theo said in a low voice. "Cassandra, I'm going to need you with me," he said, and she nodded, her jaw set and her expression dangerous. "If Eremond so much as looks like he might fire a spell, incinerate him." He half expected Dorian to protest; after all Eremond was his countryman, even if he disliked the man. But Dorian remained silent.

"Bull," Theo continued. "We'll probably confront some demons. If you want to go with Cullen I respect that," he said.

Bull huffed and hefted his maul over his shoulder. "And miss beating in Eremond's ass? Please, Boss. I'm coming along."

Theo smiled, Bull's confidence giving him strength. He felt he was shaking from all the nervous excitement. "Hawke…"

"I do Force magic," she said. "You may want me around. I may want to be around. You probably couldn't keep me away if you wanted, to be honest," she said, but with no hint of levity in her voice, so Theo just nodded his thanks.

"Stroud, Dorian… with me," Theo said.

Before he could open the gate Cassandra rested a hand on his forearm. She met his eyes and her gaze was steely. "Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls," she said. "From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity. May Andraste bless our steps and the Maker hold us in his arms," she finished.

Theo nodded. "Thank you," he said, clasping her shoulder. Even though he was the Herald of Andraste, supposedly, he wasn't very religious; but he was about to look death in the face. He'd accept Cassandra's prayer and any other help he could get.

He took a deep breath. He nocked an arrow.

He went in.

* * *

><p><em>Author's<em> Note: So things have been a bit insane of late, leading to a slight delay. But I'm back and trying to get caught up! I'm so grateful everyone who's reading the story, and would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. The kind words and conversations that have ensued mean so much, and I'm super grateful for it all!


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